They’re not all that great. Sometimes they end poorly. Like this morning. He can be nice and sometimes he can be a pill. Today he was a pill. I talked to him last week about yelling and getting worked up for no apparent reason when he comes in. He apologized said it was because of the voices in his head. He said he would control it better. This morning he wasn’t yelling but he got up, walked out slamming our glass door wide open and started walking down the street slinging his arms wildly. I followed him. I called his name. Asked if he was ok. He started making some crazy noises. I told him, “I can’t have you walking out slamming my door like that!” He didn’t like that at all. He took the lid off his cup of coffee and hurled it at me.
He’s got a good arm.
At first i was angry. Now…I’m just sad for him. It’s so hard to see people living with that kind of pain and agony. If you’re around me today, please excuse the smell of coffee on my clothes. It’s not how I planned to smell today.
B E H I N D / T H E / B A R 
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