The problem with drinking on a Sunday is that you don’t have that crucial day of rest to prepare yourself for Monday. Then, Monday becomes the new Sunday and all of the sudden you’re stuck at work with the Hangover Blues, wanting to kill yourself.
Surprisingly, waking up this morning was relatively easy. I wasn’t even that hungover. The problem was the cigarettes. I woke up with immediate regret. I never want to smoke another cigarette as long as I live. What I did last night was absolutely disgusting. Of all the stupid things I’ve ever done in my life, I’m probably more upset about smoking 15 cigarettes in a day than anything else. What a weird thing to say, given the fact that I have literally woken up in a Florida hospital because of binge drinking.
I woke up feeling like complete garbage. Everything around me smelled like an ashtray, including myself. My first thought was that I had probably developed lung cancer overnight. I thought about my parents, too. Last night’s smoking would probably be their biggest disappointment in me as well. I hate cigarettes so much. I hate everything about them. I cannot believe what came over me yesterday.
I feel disgusting. My throat hurts, my chest hurts, my body is tingling, and I am consumed by an overwhelming feeling of anxiety. I feel greasy, sweaty, lethargic, and I can’t breathe properly. My entire esophagus feels scorched. No good can ever come from cigarettes. I hate this.
I rolled out of bed, looked at the remaining six cigarettes on my coffee table, and threw them out. After making my lunch and getting my life somewhat together, I headed to the subway, where I spent 45 minutes half-asleep on the train because of a power failure. After what happened on Friday at work, this was not going to be a good look for me.
I arrived at The Clubhouse 45 minutes late, apologizing profusely and then realizing that nobody gave two fucks if I said I was sorry. I guess it was my fault the train broke down? After Friday, I felt like they weren’t going to believe anything I said, so why bother? Saying sorry is a big deal for me, though. My apologies shouldn’t be taken lightly. I don’t throw around the S-word very often.
Once I finally settled in, work was bearable. I didn’t do much all day. In fact, I spoke with Mom on the company phone for an hour.
I feel sick about this Lauryn and Phillip thing. Like, literally sick to my stomach about it. As much as I don’t want to get involved anymore, I feel as though I can’t avoid it. I also feel as though I’ve already said too much.
Yesterday, I sent Phillip two messages. One to apologize for Lauryn’s behavior and the messiness that I felt responsible for, having brought her with me to his party, and another trashing PW. After the PW message, I never heard back from Phillip.
Still trying to smooth things over, I sent Phillip another message this afternoon. I apologized for everything that had happened again, and also retracted the message I sent about PW. I was hurt when I sent that, and what I wrote was harsh.
The thing is, I still like PW. It hurts me that he completely halted all communication with me after things seemed to be going so well. It really, really hurts. I don’t want it to, but it does. I thought it was so mean the way PW completely avoided me on Saturday. I was in his bed on Tuesday, and the only thing he said to me on Saturday over the course of 12 hours was, “Hello.” I wish I was appreciated.
At first, Phillip only responded to one of my messages – the apology one. Phillip said that he was essentially done with Lauryn, and didn’t want anything to do with her. That he and his friends were so uncomfortable and disrespected, and that I should feel bad about the way she was behaving with her social media posts.
Later, Phillip added that he was confused about the PW thing. Phillip theorized that perhaps PW’s behavior was due to being uncomfortable by Phillip’s reaction to our relationship. So, that was great. This whole time, I thought Phillip was okay with me seeing PW. Considering the way Phillip likes to withhold information from me, I’m probably not getting the whole story.
While talking with Mom from behind the front desk, I told her all about the Phillip and Lauryn drama – right down to every last detail, including the fact that they slept together. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but there needed to be context as to why this had become such a big issue. Once I told Mom about their history, her entire view on the situation changed.
I see the issues from both sides. I feel like I’m being pulled in each direction. Lauryn went too far with her comments, and sent mixed signals about her feelings on sex. Phillip shouldn’t have flaunted a new girl in front of someone he had been intimate with. Both of them were wrong. I feel like by telling them that – especially Phillip – they each think that I’m picking a side.
I should have known that this would happen. When I facilitated Phillip and Lauryn’s relationship last month, I thought it was such an amazing idea. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I don’t ever want to mix friends and family again. How ironic that this is all happening the same week shit hit the fan with PW. Is Phillip going to make me excommunicate Lauryn? I don’t know.
There was a slightly selfish reason in my apologizing to Phillip. I wanted to make it clear how sorry I was about everything, because I felt as though I had made such progress with infiltrating his friend group on Saturday. I was successfully developing those relationships, and this Lauryn drama has now taken so much away from that advancement. I even went as far as messaging some of Phillip’s friends to apologize for what happened.
I shouldn’t have to do this. Relationships of any kind shouldn’t be this hard. I fucking hate drama. I went so long without this type of shit in my life, and now it’s like every week there’s something new to deal with. I hate it. I should just run away. Mom says that I shouldn’t be upset, and that she will communicate to Phillip that I feel bad about what happened so that it’s very clear. I hope things get better.
While working the desk, the elevator doors opened and Teresa Richards from The Toronto Film Group got off. Teresa was at The Clubhouse for an event site visit. Fuck. I’ve missed that woman so much! We had a quick conversation about how much she wanted me back at The Toronto Film Group, and I told her about my recent application. It seemed like Teresa might be able to assist. I really don’t think I’ll get that job, but stranger things have happened, I suppose. After my chat with Teresa, I sent emails to four contacts at The Toronto Film Group in hopes that they would pass along a recommendation to the Digital Media team. We’ll see what happens.
The rest of my workday was a bit of a joke. Drinking water, eating bread, scrolling through Facebook, and not doing much else. I still felt disgusting from the cigarettes. I texted Lucas Ingraldi while I was at work, asking him out on a dinner date. PW was now out of the picture, so why not?
I walked home from work at 4 p.m., getting groceries along the way, and then had dinner at the Witch Cave. Between the grocery store and home, my phone buzzed with a message.
Lucas: “Kurt I had fun hanging with you last night but I have to be honest and let you know I’m only interested in being friends. I know you want more but I don’t want to lead you on, so just want to be clear.”
Great. Just fucking great. Another one bites the dust. Why do all of my relationships have a one-week shelf life? I really liked this guy. I was hoping that Lucas was just playing it cool this whole time. I guess not! Still, I don’t feel horrible about it. It sucks because, well, I’ve liked Lucas for a while. However, Lucas’s rejection was a thousand times better than what happened with PW. Lucas was respectful, clear with his intentions, and even expressed a desire to be friends. I can’t say the same for how PW handled things. Anyway, that was a great addition to an otherwise shitty, wheezy, exhausted, and anxiety-ridden day.
I got home, got naked, and had dinner while watching The Nanny. I am literally Fran Fine. Now, I’m wondering if I’m going to have to play it cool with a guy and be his friend for four years before he finally asks me out on a date.
I see the problem. Some of the best relationships stem from people being friends before they start dating. I get that. I like that. But, I also don’t want to be friend-zoned, or have casual sex with someone I have feelings for. When all is said and come, I can’t handle the emotional baggage that develops alongside a “friends with benefits” situation.
I like to make it clear from the start that I want a formal, “let’s go on dates” relationship. That’s what I enjoy. Are intentions such a bad thing? Unfortunately, it’s becoming more and more clear that maybe this isn’t how the dating scene works anymore. At least, not for people in my age bracket. I also feel like Fran Fine, because I feel fucking desperate. Why am I so fucking desperate to find a man! It’s not like I have a mother breathing down my neck for grandkids. I want to fill that lonely void I’m always talking about.
Sitting on my couch tonight, I re-downloaded Grindr and Tinder and set up my profiles. I think the apps were on my phone for about two hours before I deleted both of them again.
You know what? Maybe this is a sign. There is now nobody around that I’m interested in. I don’t have any “boyfriends” to message, and I shouldn’t be looking for any new ones. It’s finally time to focus on filling that emotional void with – *gasp* – my own hopes and dreams. No more distractions, no more spending $120 on dinner dates that go nowhere, and no more planning romantic picnics for someone who doesn’t give a fuck about me. Nothing. I am now 100% single.
After dinner, I felt very tired. I ended up falling asleep for two hours. When I woke up, I found myself having a minor panic attack – sweating and breathing heavily. I think it’s a mix of the Lauryn and Phillip thing, the boy drama that’s happened recently, and my life not really being in the greatest place right now. Everything feels very chaotic. All I want right now is to relax by myself in a park. I think I’m going to do that tomorrow.
Lauryn called me tonight. We talked about the Phillip thing for a while. Lauryn wanted me to be honest with her about what Phillip had said to me so that she could figure out how to move forward with some form of an apology. I didn’t know what to say, though. I didn’t want to A) hurt Lauryn by being brutally honest, or B) betray Phillip by telling Lauryn the things he said.
Lauryn ended up calling Phillip after our chat, but he didn’t answer. As a compromise, she sent him a message. Lauryn sent me what she wrote. I thought her apology was extremely well-written. If someone sent that to me, I would seriously consider a reconciliation – regardless of my negative emotions toward the person.
I hope the two of them can work things out. If Phillip doesn’t respond well to Lauryn’s message, I’ll be honest and say that it would be very petty of him. Especially when you consider the fact that Phillip is also at fault in this situation. What Lauryn wrote was honest, genuine, and very vulnerable. Her words were calm and rational – something that is very hard to achieve when apologizing to someone. I was proud of Lauryn.
I avoided taking a Xanax during my panic attack tonight. Instead, I did a quick workout on my floor and then jumped in bed to write this. It’s so stupid how I abuse my Xanax prescription. I’ll happily pop a pill while drinking to up my buzz, but when I have an actual attack I don’t want to take it. I think it’s my way of saying, “I don’t really need this.”
Speaking of which, I think I’m going to try and get off my anti-depressant soon. I really want to try and face my problems head on. With my life now being a little more boy-free, I think it’s a good time. I’ll probably call Dr. Cohen and ask what the best way to wean myself off would be.
A big part of wanting to stop taking my medication is because of the sex-drive thing. It’s completely gone. I can’t remember the last time I even thought about masturbating. It’s not that I’m even busy. Masturbating just never crosses my mind anymore. My lack of libido upsets me, actually. I’m going to try rubbing one out right now. Perhaps it will help me release some of this anxiety.
I hope I feel better tomorrow. Fuck. I really hope I do.