This year is finally coming to an end. Well, obviously. You’re welcome for pointing it out, in case you missed it. I’ve said this many times before. I know one shouldn’t wish time away, but I am so ready to move on from this wreck of a year.
Full disclosure: I started writing tonight’s journal entry after all of the countdown stuff. It may have been Mary Jane’s fault, but I ended up embarking on another full-year review. So, this entry is just for today.
To be honest, I was hesitant about doing another one of those lengthy novels covering every event in my year. Up until now, I think I’ve done a pretty decent job of detailing all the drama. Considering I’ve completely run some topics into the ground, perhaps I’ve even been a little too thorough. Mostly, I wanted to avoid another re-cap because my last full-year review took me a full fucking year to write. It’s one of those things that’s mentally exhausting. My mind has to be in 12 different months at once. I’ll stop and think, “Oh, fuck. I totally forgot about that event/asshole/vacation/mistake/surprise/breakdown/manic episode,” and have to backtrack for re-writes. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it, though.
Anyway. As witnessed by tonight’s “festivities,” I am definitely ready for a new year.
Having blazed again last night, I woke up in my usual haze and took my time getting ready this morning. I really wanted to visit Casa Z and pick up a few of my things, but also so I could assess the clean-up job I’ll be tackling in the coming weeks. Following a call to Mom’s room, we loaded into the car and drove up to the house.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m still in a really, really bad mood. Some of the behavior is likely due to the weed, but most is probably linked to my weight gain. You know how that always bothers me. I’ve been so snippy with everything my parents do. So much for starting out this new chapter of my life on a positive note.
We got in the car, drove to the house, and I got what I needed pretty quickly. A few books, and a delivery of clothes. There’s so much stuff in my room at Casa Z right now. While it’s certainly more than a little overwhelming, I suppose that’s the nature of moving back home. It is what is. Considering I dumped my entire downtown life into my bedroom only a few weeks ago, this transition has been a lot better than I’d anticipated.
As usual, Mom lost her keys just as we were ready to leave Casa Z. This happens every time we go literally anywhere. It’s always the same thing. Mom can’t find one of three things: her phone, keys, or glasses. The result is me waiting in six layers of outerwear, while Mom frantically runs around the house, asking herself, “How could this happen?” Why these events come as such a surprise is beyond me. Regardless, it is so fucking frustrating. I’ll help at times. That is, when I can. In most cases, the items have been left in a cupboard, fridge, drawer, or somewhere else I would never think to look.
Twenty minutes later, we finally left Casa Z. What bothers me the most about all of this is the fact that Mom has no regard or respect for other people’s time. Mom is late for everything. If she’s not late, she’ll make other people wait on her.
As I write this, I’m realizing that Mom’s probably late because she’s always doing something for someone else. Ugh. Yet again, I sound like a total asshole. Mom devoting too much of her time to others is an entirely other subject – one of which I have most definitely run into the ground this year.
We stopped for some groceries near the Hilton. I made dinner in Mom’s hotel room, threw it in my fridge for later, and migrated downstairs to the gym. Mom and Dad were going to a friend’s place for their New Year’s Eve festivities, so I said my guilty goodbyes before my workout.
While probably due in part to Mom’s teachings, I always remind myself that you should never say goodbye or go to bed angry. As a result, there’s always an, “I love you,” and kiss goodbye every time my family parts from one another. Unfortunately, these days, I’ve been finding it harder to trick myself into thinking that those gestures erase my earlier actions. Sure, it’s true that I don’t want the last words I said to Mom to be about wasting my time. Does a kiss goodbye cover up all of that, though? Of course not. My guilt remains.
God bless the gym. After working through some of my depression, frustration, and guilt, I returned to my room for the night – still bloated as ever. I waited a bit before I sparked up. Once I did, I felt totally at ease. That’s what I hate about smoking weed. For something that has so many negative side effects the morning after, pot completely calms me in the moment I need it.
I listened to music.
I watched TV.
I ate a ton of food.
I had a completely relaxing New Year’s Eve.
Tonight was the first year I’ve ever done anything like that. I always joke about wanting to spend New Year’s Eve alone or sleeping through the countdown. I really don’t care for the holiday. Typically, I’ll cave and go to a party or someone’s house. I’ve never spent New Year’s Eve alone, though. Honestly, it was everything I’ve ever wanted. I absolutely loved tonight. I would do it all again in a heartbeat. Perhaps less binge eating. Then again, of all the nights in a year to binge eat on, tonight was the one.
Apart from a few digital interactions with friends texting me about Mariah Carey’s fucked up New Year’s Eve performance – are we really surprised at this point? You know she doesn’t do well under pressure – I didn’t really talk to many people. It’s fine, I guess. I suppose that’s the one part of my life that isn’t going to change much.
I don’t want to sit here and whine about my solitude. I mean, it’s not as if I reached out to anyone myself. For someone who knows so many people, I think many would be surprised to learn that I can count on one hand the friends who really matter to me. I don’t mean it to be rude. I value every one of my friendships in different ways. But, yeah. I’d only take a bullet for a couple of them. Again, I don’t really have the right to bitch about my loneliness. It’s so one-sided. You reap what you sow, bitch.
Shortly after 1 a.m., I finished what will now be a new year-end review. After that, I went to bed. Of all my New Year’s Eves, this one has been my favorite. Better still, I won’t be hungover tomorrow. Just fat. So fucking fat.
I have a lot more to say about you in another journal.
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