Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 1 of 2)

June 8

June 8

Woke up at my usual time, then completed my usual morning routine.

The idea of a routine is actually quite depressing to me. I mean, it's a bit of a stretch for me to use the term "routine." I'm not doing much more than brewing coffee, making my bed, and showering. But, still – it's a repetitive process that occurs every morning.

With a routine, it's as though life simply passes you by. You partake in the same mundane activities, day after day, until you find yourself stuck in a two-foot-deep ass groove at the local raisin ranch. It's all somewhat ironic, though. When I was unemployed, I craved a routine. I wanted that stability. There was nothing pushing me to get out of bed in the morning. However, when I do have that stability, I resent it. I feel like a routine removes all spontaneity from my life. Just a thought.

I didn't go into work first thing today. Instead, I drove up to Newmarket for another post-op appointment at the hospital with Dr. Europia. Despite waiting over an hour to be seen, it was a really good visit.

On a side note, while Mom and I were sitting in the waiting room – each trying to ignore the multiple children bouncing off the walls – she told me about a conversation she'd recently had with a friend who was also operated on by Dr. Europia. Apparently, this friend, along with many other patients, mentioned mostly negative experiences with Dr. Europia. What caught me off guard during Mom's story was what she had told her friend: "Kurt has the ability to bring out the best in people." Isn't that such a wonderful thing to say about someone? I will gladly accept that character trait.

Sure enough, when we saw Dr. Europia, I cracked some jokes and made her laugh. That's all I ever want in life. I want to make people laugh. I want everyone to smile, even if it's just for a brief moment. There isn't enough happiness in the world.

I'll always remember something Moira Nightingale said to me during our therapy session:

"You should never set out to make people happy, because you can't. The happiness of others is out of your control."

I agree with Moira Nightingale. Based on personal experiences, I know that even though someone may make you feel good about yourself, they're not necessarily going to be a permanent fixture in your life. The only way to be truly happy is to find the joy within yourself. That being said, I can sure as hell try to make someone's day even the slightest bit better. I'm all about moments. If I can provide someone with a happy moment in their day, that's all I want.

After finishing with Dr. Europia, I drove back downtown and went into the office around 2 p.m. Although I tried to do some research for a member engagement project I'm working on, I barely did anything. I'm finding the work to be a bit difficult, to be honest. Not necessarily the tasks themselves, but the process in which they are completed. Without the managerial supervision I'm used to, it has really come down to me pushing myself. It is what it is, I guess. That's what a big boy job is all about, right? I'm trying to be productive. However, I'm also on my phone every 36 seconds, checking Grindr to see that no guys have messaged me back.

When 6 p.m. rolled around, that meant it was time for Open House – The Clubhouse's bi-monthly social event for new members, which features ice-breakers, staff introductions, and free drinks. It was pretty awesome, actually. I had a really good time talking with members, and felt much more comfortable with them than I did at last Friday's After Hours.

Lucy, the club's programming coordinator, is quickly becoming my new best friend at work. The girl is only a year older than me, so we've been able to bond relatively easily. Not only does Lucy just seem to "get it," but she is also very honest about what it's like to work at The Clubhouse. Apparently, the last girl who had my job absolutely hated Robyn. In fact, that was the reason she quit. The girl couldn't stand working for Robyn. Interesting.

I had about four to six glasses of wine at Open House, but still managed to keep it cute. The best way to get information out of your co-workers is to get them drunk. I think Robyn probably had a bit to drink, too. After the event, we gave each other a hug goodbye. Weird. I've got to remember to only "take" information from people, though. Do not fall into office politics!

I walked home to the Witch Cave after work. As usual, because I am obsessed with grocery stores, I stopped at Loblaws to pick up some food along the way. Without fail, I always manage to run into someone I know while trolling the many different aisles of that massive supermarket. Tonight, that person was Justin LeBlanc.

Shortly after initiating a conversation with Justin, I realized that I was still drunk from the wine I'd consumed at Open House. I needed to go home. As I looked at Justin through my doubled vision, I blurted out, "This conversation is boring me and has run its course," and then walked away. I shouted, "Love you!" as I was leaving, though. It was fine.

I finished my walk to the Witch Cave, made and ate a couple of grilled cheeses, watched Chelsea on Netflix, and then stumbled into bed very tipsily.

I think too much.

Goodnight xo