Another day, another dollar.
I schlepped to The Clubhouse as usual, then counted down my standard 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. in the office. Sure, there was some work done here and there, but most of my day was spent conversing with Kate’s bachelorette girls to arrange matching t-shirts for our upcoming weekend in Montreal. Really important stuff, you know.
Honestly, today was not an eventful one. I don’t have much to write about tonight. Aside from discovering some new (old) editorial pictures of Mariah Carey on Twitter, I didn’t tweet anything. Nothing happened on Facebook, except for a post on my timeline from Mom about “How Many Yiddish Words Do You Know?” and I didn’t send out any emails. By all means, it was a fucking dull Tuesday.
In a surprising turn of events, there was actually a lot of work for me to do in the office today. Big Bird and I have a meeting with the Membership Committee tomorrow night to go over new applications, which meant that I had to prepare a large PowerPoint presentation and organize a bunch of other random administration crap. At least it kept me busy. Having actual work to do certainly makes the days go by faster. What a concept!
I left The Clubhouse at my usual time, and walked home listening to Me. I Am Mariah... The Elusive Chanteuse, which seems to be my album of the week. It really is a masterpiece. I could feel my phone vibrating its battery away inside my backpack as I dragged my feet across town, but I didn’t care. I wanted to enjoy my alone time with Mimi. One message always leads to another, and then I’m stuck in a texting cycle for an hour as my phone continues to buzz. I can’t handle it. Hearing my phone go off like that gives me PTSD. I use the “Do Not Disturb” option on a lot of my contacts.
By the time I arrived at the Witch Cave, I had six equally long essay form messages from Lauryn, including one about her crediting my brother for the photography work he helped her with at the beginning of the month. The stream of messages started as I was leaving The Clubhouse. When I got home around 6 p.m., I decided that I had enough time to devote to what was sure to be a long night of texting. After my first response, more messages began coming through about a variety of Lauryn’s recent struggles.
I could tell Lauryn was really going through something tonight. She’s always been there for me, so I wanted to reciprocate on that part of our friendship. I lent support where I could, but really just let Lauryn vent. We continued the trend of her sending eight messages for every one from moi. Sometimes, I think the best way to help someone is to simply let them talk.
The conversation was quickly turning dark. At one point, Lauryn sent a message that read: “I feel like I can’t picture myself living in this world anymore.” That’s scary stuff to receive from a friend. Having experienced a lot of my own depression, I obviously wanted to help her in any way I could. I would send Lauryn one long message after the other, trying to calm her down, talk her off the ledge, and give her rational advice for what to do moving forward.
Eventually, Lauryn brought up what had sparked all of this anxiety in the first place. During another string of 17 messages – I am being 100% serious here; I just counted – Lauryn started talking about Phillip. I didn’t know what to do. I decided to just ignore the parts about Phillip, but still respond to the rest of the essay. Lauryn wouldn’t let it go, though.
There was another set of ten messages about Phillip. Oh, and I’m not talking about one or two sentences per text. Lauryn’s messages were longer than my phone’s screen. I think I have arthritis in my thumb now, and I don’t have a benefits plan at work to pay for that shit. I was going to ask Lauryn for a check to cover the physical therapy I was going to require after our conversation, but I didn’t think it was the right time.
I continued responding to Lauryn’s messages as best I could. However, once she brought up Phillip for the third time, I told her that I could not discuss or comment on the situation anymore. I had to put an end to it. The last thing I wanted was to narrowly wrap up our discussion tonight, and then have the whole thing brought up again in another few days. I told Lauryn that discussing my brother made me extremely uncomfortable.
After that, our conversation pretty much ended. This was an hour and a half after it started. Although I felt like I had calmed Lauryn down to the best of my ability, I was still worried about her. I decided to send her sister Lia a message. I explained what had happened, how Lauryn was going through a rough time, and that I thought it would be a good idea for Lia to reach out to her sister. Lia responded quickly, stating that there wasn’t much she could do. Oy.
Completely spent and unable to move my thumbs after my exchange with Lauryn, I cooked dinner, got high, watched TV, and made an Instagram video. That seems to be my usual evening these days. I washed up, crawled into bed, and that was it for the day.
Are Tuesday’s ever fun? I just shook my Magic 8-Ball. The answer?
“Reply hazy, try again.”