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 2 of 2).
Adapted from a collection of nightly...
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July 12
This morning was fucking hell. Miraculously, I managed to get up early and on time. I made breakfast, lunch, and did my exercises, but I was so fucking exhausted that I ended up going back to bed. I figured I would just go to work for 10 a.m. instead of 9 a.m., but still leave early at 5 p.m.
Note to self: don't set alarms when you're still drunk in the morning.
Lesson learned. I woke up again, realized it was 9:45 a.m., and knew I wasn't going to be at work for 10 a.m. I rushed out the door, texting Robyn along the way to let her know that I was going to be late. When I got to the office at 10:30 a.m., I made up some outrageous lie about being pulled off the streetcar and getting a ticket for an invalid metro pass. It was plausible.
Today at work was somewhat ridiculous. Once again, I spent a lot of time on the internet between menial tasks. I love being in my office on Tuesday, because Robyn isn't. The woman always has about 16 meetings and tours booked throughout the day, which means it's just me in our little closet. I can man-spread myself all over the place! It also means that I can text boys all day and listen to Mariah Carey at the loudest level possible. So, that's what I did. Fortunately, Robyn had another meeting just before 5 p.m., which meant I was able to leave on time without any questioning.
I can't decide if this attitude towards my job is good or bad. It's not that I don't work. I do. I'm actually quite productive, and complete everything Robyn asks of me. The thing is, Robyn's a micromanager. I'm not allowed to do much by myself, because Robyn wants to be involved in every process. This becomes a problem when Robyn is busy, as I can't move on to my next assignment. That's when I end up fucking around all day. It works for me, though. I get paid either way! I'm also planning on quitting The Clubhouse once I find a better, higher paying job that is a bit more stimulating. Although, I've got to say. My resume looks pretty damn good with this latest addition. The best part? New employers don't need to know that I've only been at The Clubhouse for six weeks. Muahahaha!
I texted with Lucas Ingraldi a lot today. PW, too. Basically, I'm getting paid to maintain my social life. It's pretty sweet. Oh, and listen to Mariah's "Babydoll" on repeat twenty times. It's a great song to send to guys. I forwarded a YouTube link of it to Lucas.
I can't believe Lucas and I made out the way we did last night. It was very unexpected, but very hot. It was just so weird when Lucas first got to the park. I didn't even think the two of us were going to interact, and then the evening unfolded the way it did. I think Lucas liked my sassy attitude, which was also surprising. This is why I don't like social media. I totally misjudged the guy off his Instagram when, in reality, Lucas was completely different from what I had expected. In a good way! It made me wonder what people think of me. Wonder, but not really care.
I ran out of work at 5 p.m., having counted down the seconds until I could leave. That's the problem with shift pay. You actually have to be at work when you start and finish. You can't ghost early, and get paid for the time you weren't in the building. That's why you fuck around during the day and get paid for doing nothing.
