this was supposed to be a quick Sunday post...
Hey ya'll. I've been a bit of a downer the past couple weeks, what with feeling like I was on the verge of death and not being able to sleep at night and all. Sorry about that. I'm a bit of a baby when it comes to being sick.
By Friday I'd about had it. I couldn't fall asleep until well after 3:00 a.m. and my alarm was set for 5:30 a.m. because I had a 7:00 interview. I thought I was going to have to kill myself.
Friday night I decided after not getting more than 2-3 hours of sleep a night for five nights in a row and having tried all the "logical" solutions that it was time to try the irresponsible way. So I went out on Friday night and drank like there was no tomorrow. I started with three beers at my house, then went to the bar and had four – yes four – tequila shots, a red-headed slut, and more Bud Lights than I can count. And then when my friends dropped me off at home at 2:00 a.m. I walked in my door, did another shot of tequila, cracked another beer, and smoked the hugest bowl ever. Then I sat down on my couch and watched a little Roseanne, then put in some porn, banged out a quick self-abuse session (cuz I always feel like taking a long nap after doing that) and FUCKING PASSED OUT!
And it was beautiful. I briefly opened my eyes and looked at the clock at about 7:30 a.m., but then immediately passed out again and didn't get out of bed until well after noon. Then after running a few errands I took a two-hour nap. So I think I may be at the point where I can be a functioning member of society again. Yay!
Strep throat and bronchitis and junk sucks.
Last night I went to a party at the house of a guy I briefly dated about three years ago. The romantic thing never really took off between us, but we were pretty good buds for quite a while there. We did have sex one Pride Weekend, but mainly because we were both blasted and giddy on gay pride. Anyway, he's got a great partner now and they live in this adorable house out in the goddamn fucking suburbs with beautiful shiny appliances and a big, huge T.V. and a grand piano and two teeny, tiny cutie dogs named Annie and Jellybean or some shit like that.
Yeah – I know, I felt like gagging at first too, but then I had about six glasses of wine and started to feel really happy for him. Which was soon followed by a feeling of sadness and sense of time lost on my part. When I got home I sat there on my couch and fretted over where the past three years have gone. It literally seems like I was fucking him, like, two seconds ago and now he's Mr. Domestic and I'm still as single and messed up as ever.
It's starting to feel like I'm going to be 40 any minute now and that's freaking scary.
I miss the complacency of my 20's and they only ended seven months ago! Christ.
However, on the bright side, I had the most excellent job interview on Friday (despite being Zombie Matt). I don't want to jinx it by talking about it too much at this stage, but I would be doing marketing for another architecture firm, except making more money and getting to run the show. All the potential responsibility actually scares the shit out of me, but that's good. My work life needs a serious shot in the arm.
All right. I'm off to run some errands in the 100-m.p.h. Denver winds.
I'll make a serious effort to catch up on everyone's blogs this week, I swear!
By Friday I'd about had it. I couldn't fall asleep until well after 3:00 a.m. and my alarm was set for 5:30 a.m. because I had a 7:00 interview. I thought I was going to have to kill myself.
Friday night I decided after not getting more than 2-3 hours of sleep a night for five nights in a row and having tried all the "logical" solutions that it was time to try the irresponsible way. So I went out on Friday night and drank like there was no tomorrow. I started with three beers at my house, then went to the bar and had four – yes four – tequila shots, a red-headed slut, and more Bud Lights than I can count. And then when my friends dropped me off at home at 2:00 a.m. I walked in my door, did another shot of tequila, cracked another beer, and smoked the hugest bowl ever. Then I sat down on my couch and watched a little Roseanne, then put in some porn, banged out a quick self-abuse session (cuz I always feel like taking a long nap after doing that) and FUCKING PASSED OUT!
And it was beautiful. I briefly opened my eyes and looked at the clock at about 7:30 a.m., but then immediately passed out again and didn't get out of bed until well after noon. Then after running a few errands I took a two-hour nap. So I think I may be at the point where I can be a functioning member of society again. Yay!
Strep throat and bronchitis and junk sucks.
Last night I went to a party at the house of a guy I briefly dated about three years ago. The romantic thing never really took off between us, but we were pretty good buds for quite a while there. We did have sex one Pride Weekend, but mainly because we were both blasted and giddy on gay pride. Anyway, he's got a great partner now and they live in this adorable house out in the goddamn fucking suburbs with beautiful shiny appliances and a big, huge T.V. and a grand piano and two teeny, tiny cutie dogs named Annie and Jellybean or some shit like that.
Yeah – I know, I felt like gagging at first too, but then I had about six glasses of wine and started to feel really happy for him. Which was soon followed by a feeling of sadness and sense of time lost on my part. When I got home I sat there on my couch and fretted over where the past three years have gone. It literally seems like I was fucking him, like, two seconds ago and now he's Mr. Domestic and I'm still as single and messed up as ever.
It's starting to feel like I'm going to be 40 any minute now and that's freaking scary.
I miss the complacency of my 20's and they only ended seven months ago! Christ.
However, on the bright side, I had the most excellent job interview on Friday (despite being Zombie Matt). I don't want to jinx it by talking about it too much at this stage, but I would be doing marketing for another architecture firm, except making more money and getting to run the show. All the potential responsibility actually scares the shit out of me, but that's good. My work life needs a serious shot in the arm.
All right. I'm off to run some errands in the 100-m.p.h. Denver winds.
I'll make a serious effort to catch up on everyone's blogs this week, I swear!
2 Comments:
Who needs Ambien when you have loads of booze and masturbation!? Awesome.
I'm not sure I like knowing when you beat off. That might send me to therapy.
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