Thanks for giving those of us challenged by circumstance a forum to express the joys and difficulties of our lives. Well, today is the third of the month. The government has direct-deposited my monthly $1,200.00., and I gotta pay bills. While I feel lucky that for 15 years I paid into SSD, and receive so much money, I still find myself realizing that oftentimes, physically challenged also means financially challenged.

This is for all those people who don't know what I do with all my money, and for the people who think I lack social initiative and fashion sense, when what I really lack is funds. Even if you don't print this, I feel better about having gotten it down on paper. I'm proud to say I've developed some superb AIDS financial skills along with a capacity for love. What does one have to do with the other? You do the Math…

Ne*cess*i*ty (noun)

1. Pressure of circumstance 2. The quality or state of being in need. 3. An urgent need, or something that is necessary. 4. A requirement.

Dear Mikey,

Looks like it all adds up to me. And according to my calculations, you're the richest man in town.

I have been seeing some guy for a couple of weeks who doesn't know his status. True to form, I disclosed mine within the first 5 minutes of meeting. This generally serves as my Magic 8 Ball for whether or not they get a date. If they stammer for 10 minutes, "outlook not so good." If they press on with intelligent questions, or display a working knowledge of AIDS, "signs point to yes." We talked that first day about safe sex, which he hadn't always had. We also talked about my life living with AIDS. He seemed receptive and unafraid. This, as anyone with AIDS can attest to, is refreshing. Anyhow, this guy is a peach, easy to look at, seemingly comfortable with what he considers to be safe sex and anxious to have it. Negotiations complete, we "had it, and had it and had it…" Then I had a "funk day". Those days where every pill seems like a baseball, you get a touch of diarrhea, or some bad news on the family front. Those days when any one thing can just put you over the edge, when enough is enough. I call 'em "funk days". I had one in front of him. Don't get me wrong, I don't freak, I just get kinda quiet. When he asked me what was wrong I explained to him what "funk day" was. It was then he told me, in so many words, that it hadn't occurred to him what he was getting into and he wasn't entirely sure he was up to the task. Uh hello? Aren't I allowed to have a bad day? Am I now going to have to follow a safe sex discussion with a safe mood discussion as well? Does it ever end?

Dear "Outlook Positive,"

Yes, you're entitled to a funk. AIDS or no AIDS, we all have them, and I'd be more worried about you if you didn't.Just as a person with AIDS is entitled to sex, they're entitled to get the blues, but I know it can be frustrating to feel as though you've got to constantly negotiate these things. And yes, AIDS is exasperating, but a great deal of good can come from your exasperation. AIDS constantly puts us in the position to teach by example, not only about safe sex, but about the positive lifestyle changes that can enhance one's life regardless of status. One of these positive lifestyle changes, is the ability to give without expecting anything in return. That's a tough one to learn, but maybe if you thought for a few moments about what you're actually giving this person by exposing him to your lifestyle, you wouldn't be so angry. Perhaps now this person will get tested. Perhaps now this person will always have safe sex. Isn't it somewhat gratifying to know that you might have had a hand in actually saving somebody's life? I think it's downright admirable. Here's hoping this letter finds you out of your funk and enjoying your lifestyle.

I went out to dinner with my friend Cynthia last night, just like I have every Wednesday night since we were in college. When I went on disability because of having AIDS, our weekly dinners would have been pretty much out of the question were it not for my friend Cynthia. She picks me up when she gets off work every Wednesday night at seven, to take me to dinner, and won't even let me spring for the tip. I just wanted to say, for dinner with Cynthia, and all the other little gestures of love and support that are shown to me every day, "thanks".

Dear Thanks for the Reminder,

Just as there are no small miracles, there are no little gestures of love. Calling me every morning, cooking me my favorite meal, always treating me to the movies, hiring me "off the books" when you don't need the help, getting me a futon, steaming me lobster, buying me Oakley sunglasses, giving me birthday gifts twice, lending cyber-support, showing up with sweet potato pie on Christmas morning and reminding me that we are all God's children. For these things, the always attentive ears and unconditional love, I too am eternally grateful.

Dear Readers,

The holidays are a good time for all of us to take a moment and remember the "little" gestures of love that make such a big difference in our lives. Mary Fisher once said that while those of us who have HIV were drafted into the AIDS struggle, caregivers volunteered, which is, when you think of it, nothing short of heroic.

This holiday season, I wanted to say a personal thank you to all caregivers everywhere, who share their light, their love and their laughter, and can make the difference, for many of us, between surviving with AIDS and really living. I'd also like to say a special thank you to all of you who take the time to read and respond to this column. You make a big difference in my life, and for each of you too, I am eternally grateful.

If you've got someone who really makes a difference in your life, tell them, and then write and tell me too, and we'll all share the love.

I wish you all a happy and a healthy holiday season.