Hi, I'm Kurt. A binge-drinking, pill-popping disco diva with a heart of platinum and an appetite for self-destruction.
Welcome to Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 1 of 2).
Adapted from a collection of nightly...
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January 17
What a difference a week makes. I feel so much better these days. It's not even like that much has changed. I'm still looking for work and my money situation remains the same, but I guess maybe I've gotten a little more used to things? This broke, unemployed, isolated lifestyle doesn't feel like such a culture shock anymore. I'm kind of enjoying the change, actually. Especially the effect it's had on my body.
I took another picture in the locker room last night and sent it to Logan. I did this:
1. I know that it guarantees me a message back.
2. I'm actually liking what I see when I look in the mirror lately.
If this is what a lack of weed and alcohol in my life results in, I'm all for it. Last night was the first time I'd ever sent someone a picture like that. It wasn't even that risqué. The photo was from the belly button and up and I was wrapped in a towel. But, still. A big step for me in the self-confidence department.
I did my workout as usual and then went up north to the house, had dinner, and spent most of the night with Mom and Dad. After some Legally Blonde, we hopped on the Making a Murderer bandwagon and watched three hours' worth. I like hanging out at home. It's comforting and – I don't know. I want to be a better son. I'm trying.
Drove back to my apartment, unpacked the laundry I did at the house, did my usual pre-bed masturbation, and fell asleep. Here's to a new week. Let's hope some exciting stuff happens!
