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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May 14
Day two of breakfast in bed, which was fucking amazing.
I'm realizing as I write this, that there are three possible reasons as to why Mom has been agreeing to bring me food like this:
1. It's the first time that I am allowing Mom to bring me food
2. Unlike 99% of the population, Mom actually enjoys doing things for other people
3. The hotel breakfasts are complimentary
I think we're looking at a combination of all three. However, the last one seems most plausible, as I believe it is Mom's personal mission to hoard as much free stuff as possible. A trait that is most certainly hereditary. This would also explain why each morning's take-out box contains more food than the last one. I don't need four croissants. But, they're free. So, okay. Always remember the first rule of money: never spend your own!
Phillip slept at Cousin Evan's apartment downtown again, and returned to the hotel fairly early. We both ended up in the gym around the same time, and spent a couple of hours there together. I did my normal routine. Weights, floor stuff, and running. While I was on the treadmill, Phillip got on another one a couple of spaces to my right. My mind began to drift into some philosophical tangent about progress while I was listening to my 1998 to 2001 Britney Spears playlist.
Compared to my hour-long run at 7mph, Phillip was going relatively slow on his treadmill. It got me thinking about how I have progressed with my exercise. When I started running four years ago, it was around 5.5mph and 30 minutes was the death of me. It was the same thing with sit-ups. I could barely do 100, and now I'm crunching over 1,000 every time I'm in the gym.
Things don't start at 100%. You don't start out at the top. That's not to say that I am by any means at the "top," but I suppose progress is clearer in hindsight. I've come a long way with my exercising. The same can be said for a job. You don't jump into a senior work role. You have to learn the ropes. "Walk before you run," if you will.
Still on my philosophical tangent, I even began thinking about my summers working in Florida, and how those exchange programs taught me about US work permits and visas. It was because of that knowledge, experience, and confidence, that I was able to go do something similar by myself in California during the summer of 2012.
Things work in stages, I guess. Perhaps relationships do, too. But, when is it "working towards a goal," and when is it "settling?" I suppose it's being able to recognize the moments in life when you know you want more. When you're ready for more. I know that I am at that point right now. I know that I want to quit The Store. I want a new, exciting, and stimulating job. I know that I don't want to date Bryan anymore. Even though he's a great guy, I don't want him to be a part of my future. I am able to recognize each of these moments and more. I'm ready for the next stage.
Ah. The things you think about while running.
After the gym, the family raced to get ready for the wedding, jumped in the car, and drove to the church. Alright, I'm going to say it. I looked good. I'm not going to be modest about it. I looked fucking good! There's such a negative connotation associated with a statement like that. But, let's be real here. I don't exactly love the way I look 98% of the time. After a lot of hard work to overcome some damning insecurities I have about myself, I'm proud to say that I looked quite handsome at the wedding tonight.
