The goal was Ridgewood but I mixed up Grand Avenue and Metropolitan Avenue, as I have done in the past. I thought it was Grand that ran into Linden Hill Cemetery in Ridgewood, and from there the glories of that hipster/artsy enclave open wide. But I stuck to Grand Avenue long enough to realize I was wrong, by which time I just said to hell with it, Williamsburg it is. I was further confused by how Grand Avenue seems to become Grand Street, making me think I was completely lost. But you can’t get too lost in the 5 boroughs. I crossed two new bridges: Grand Street Bridge and Metropolitan Avenue Bridge.

I am too manly a man to check a map (hah). I mean if I’m traveling outside of the city or, as happened a few weeks ago, someone driving the car does not know where they are going, I will be wanky and open a map. But on the ground and wandering for the joy of it I stay mapless as much as possible. My journey ended exactly the same as yesterday’s, hopping a B24 bus over the Kosciuszko, beholding the great Calvary Cemetery, and making an ace transfer to a Q104 bus from Sunnyside right down Broadway in beautiful downtown Astoria.

Grand Avenue/Street, whatever it was, had little charms over me. It’s a holiday so everything was closed, but by weekday I bet it’s a very active industrial zone. It is not far from that little side street I discovered the other day, where the monster trucks roar through, using the driveway-sized alley as a shortcut.

I landed at the Goodfellas Diner, and had a grilled cheese and bacon sammich. I actually forgot there was a second payphone just inside the front door of that diner. Another one lingers on a wall toward the back. I wrote about those payphones and the phone booth scene in “Goodfellas” a couple of years ago.

I also unintentionally ended up going past the DETEX station again. I upped the ante this time, since I don’t expect to be past there again any time soon. I left my calling card and a few more coins for whoever next opens this thing. It’s like my little Geocache. I should meet fascinating people in this manner.

I also think I remember where I might have been seeing those watchclock things. I think they are affixed to the base of certain mausolea at Calvary and elsewhere. I did not go by any of that today but I will think about looking for those containers next time. It would make sense if those mausolea, with their stained glass and other splendors, would be treated to additional security patrols and verification of guards’ check-ins.

I ordered a hand held game controller for the Gear VR. It took some and will continue to take some getting used to but I can see where it’s superior to the headset’s square surface. Although I would not say it is head and shoulders better than the built-in surface.

Sleep last night was hard to describe. It’s the same as happened in weeks past, on the first night that I go without booze. I try to get by on a half a benzo but I give in and take a full one. I don’t know what difference it really makes. But before taking the second half of the pill I was constantly being jolted awake by what felt like electrical jolts throughout my body. Not scary in strength or anything, just enough to snap me out of unconsciousness, and not unlike similar jolts I remember from childhood and adolescence. I wake up after those jolts feeling like I must be getting no sleep at all, but ultimately I think I sleep reasonably fine. I was up at 10, I think, after going to bed to the soothing sounds of rocket explosions outside. I played Alphabetty until 2am before taking on the challenge of sleep. It is no different, or not much different at least, from how I remember my younger years. The best way for me to sleep like a king was to put in a long, hard day’s work.

Last time I went a few weeks boozeless I think these electrical jolts — the more severe ones, that is — lasted a few nights. Hoping they don’t last too long this time around, though I don’t know why they would if they faded before. I will probably just get used to them and sleep them away.

I should look this up to see if I am having some kind of nervous system attack. If I am then I could enjoy the noise and splendor of another brain MRI. Yay.

What puzzles me about all this is that the benzos are intended for anxiety caused by alcohol withdrawal. That doesn’t puzzle me in and of itself, except that I have not been experiencing any symptoms or feelings of alcohol withdrawal, and it makes me question the prescription in the first place. I feel fine most days, if a little groggy at first. My hands do not shake like they did at the ER, though I came to doubt their diagnosis as being altogether comprehensive. But why would they apply extra diagnostic resources to a drunk?

I only begin to feel anxiety when I lay down to go to sleep. I remember last time when I quit for a week my BP was a perfect 130/80 at about midnight. But when I went to bed 15 minutes later it blasted off to something like 160/90. I always had insomnia and anxiety as a kid, and now that my life is in a years-long tailspin maybe it’s just jacking up those innate tendencies and transforming them into panic attacks and a mild form of something like fatal familial insomnia.

Once I finish this benzos regimen I’ll revisit sleeping pills, with which I had mixed luck the last times I used them — 15+ years ago. I actually did try Unisom recently but it was a bust, probably taken too soon after the benzos and canceling itself out.

Part of why I am making these epic walks with such earnestness these days is that the exhaustion they submit my body to should help me sleep better. But it’s also a thing I love to do. Just wander. I’ve missed it.

It’s the first of the month. Maybe I’ll get nice new neighbors.

OK, back to the homestead and back to something like work.