Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 12 of 12)

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December 15

December 15

Work is almost over. The end is near. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, I cannot believe it’s come so quickly. I also can’t believe what a mess this MacBook migration has been. We’ll just call it a lesson in patience, and how to let things go. Still, it’s annoying.

Following a large file transfer, a full body hair trim, and another free breakfast, I made it to The Clubhouse on time this morning. A miracle in itself, to be honest. Once at my desk, I pushed through a decent amount of work before taking a long break and working on my own stuff. By the end of the day, there was a much different vibe in the office. Big Bird began throwing loads of extra work on my desk, as if she had just realized that she wasn’t going to have me after tomorrow.

This afternoon, Big Bird wanted to follow-up on my progress with certain projects. I had nothing. It was ridiculous, but also slightly terrifying. There was a moment when Big Bird asked to review a document I was supposed to have been working on for two weeks. Meanwhile, I hadn’t even opened the damn thing since we first talked about the project.

Don’t ask me how, but I managed to stall Big Bird long enough to literally punch a thousand words into my keyboard, copy and paste a bunch of shit together, and make it look like I had done something. Big Bird fell for it. The downside? Now, I actually have to do the work tomorrow before Big Bird realizes I just pulled the wool over her eyes. Or, is it feathers over her beak? I don’t know.

I left work this evening in the middle of a huge blizzard. How the hell was I going to make it to the Witch Cave to sell off my couch and mattress? Seriously. It was the worst snowstorm I’ve seen in a long time. Following a pit stop at the Hilton to eat my leftover breakfast food, the snow had miraculously stopped. Taking a break from the joke that was my computer migration – a venture which had made zero progress after my eight-hour day at work – I bundled up and made the trek to my apartment.

Pon de way across town, I concocted a game plan in my head. The faster I emptied the Witch Cave, the better. I did not want to spend one extra minute in that unit. Once at the apartment, I wasted no time. I moved out the rug, mattress, and somehow, the two-seater couch all by myself. It was crazy. You know that scene in Matilda where Miss Trunchbull picks up the car? Or, one of those stories about an adrenaline-filled mother lifting a bus off of her child? Tonight, that was me. I was so determined to get the hell out of that place, I wasn’t thinking about how heavy the couch was. I just went for it. Within 15 minutes, everything was out of my apartment.

As I shut the lights and began to close the door, I paused. I turned the lights back on. I looked around. I smiled. I remembered all of the great times I’d had within the walls of the Witch Cave. That’s how I want to remember my apartment. Still, I feel as though there is a lot of bad energy in that space. I am so excited to move on.

I didn’t pause for long. Thirty seconds later, I was on the sidewalk and walking back to Wellesley Station with Mariah Carey’s “Shake It Off” blasting in my ears. Witch Cave – it’s been a moment. Thanks for the memories. Onwards and upwards from here!

Back at the Hilton, I returned to my computer migration bullshit. In an attempt to better understand my technological troubles, I ended up spending close to an hour on the phone with Apple Support. By 10:30 p.m., we had finally come to the conclusion that my old MacBook was so old, it was now considered obsolete. Yeah. It’s that ancient. Now, I have to transfer everything manually. Great. It’s not so much about the act of transferring data. On the contrary, it’s that I don’t want to lose anything in the process. As it stands right now, I don’t have any of my iMessage history. That’s a problem. I need to be able to reference past conversations and dredge up old arguments whenever I want. All will be fixed in time, I suppose. Still annoying, though.

That about sums up my day and night. Although, I just realized that I never gave an update on Colin. We were supposed to hang out tonight, but he didn’t message me at all on Monday or Tuesday. As such, I thought it was fairly safe to say that he had dropped off like so many before. When Colin messaged me unexpectedly yesterday, it was revealed that he’s been out of commission with some sort of stomach flu since Sunday night. I suppose it makes sense. Colin did mention that he was feeling a bit weird that night. I guess it got worse after he went home.

This afternoon, Colin initiated another conversation with me. After he brought up our tentative plans for drinks tonight, now I’m thinking that maybe he’s not dropping off? I don’t know anymore. I don’t like that my mind goes to that negative space right away, but I haven’t exactly had the best track record with guys over the years. Colin’s message was sort of promising today, I guess? I mean, I could tell he felt bad about cancelling on me. The fact that Colin made an effort to bring it up and sort of put it out there makes me believe that maybe he’s still interested? It would certainly be a surprise.

Overall, it would be nice to at least get to know Colin a bit more. Do I know if our interests will mesh well in the long run? No. Not really. Three dates is hard to tell. Although, if you asked Mom, she’d say that you should have an idea by now. Anyway, I guess Colin’s back in the picture – regardless of whether or not he was ever officially out. Mind you, Colin’s not technically back in the picture until after Christmas. Given all of the craziness about to happen, that’s the earliest I’ll be able to see him. We’ll let this unfold over the coming weeks. Should be interesting.

I’m tired. It’s 2:30 a.m. right now. I am so screwed for tomorrow. Oh, yeah. I’m going to New York City tomorrow, too. Oy. We all know what happens when I travel whilst sleep-deprived. Fortunately, I have no plans to visit Fire Island.

Love you much.

Goodnight xo

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