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

August 2

August 2

I. Hate. Mornings.

Seriously, I cannot get myself out of bed before 7 a.m. Even that hour is an extreme struggle.

I couldn't fall asleep last night. I'm going to go ahead and place the blame on the super-sized slice of pie and three chocolate-covered "granola bars" – who the fuck is Quaker kidding? – that I funneled down my throat at 10 p.m.

Given that it was a long weekend, last night was technically my Sunday night. Naturally, that meant all the regrets of my life were racing through my mind. Weed was taking center stage. I couldn't stop thinking about how stupid I was for falling into the trap again. Weed is such a fucking trap! Mary Jane lures you in with her siren song of relaxation, stress-relief, and creativity. Once she's trapped you in her cloud, you're a fucking goner. All productivity floats away, only to be replaced by an undying hunger. Oh, the fucking hunger! It's so messed up.

While in bed, thinking about all of the above and how badly I wanted to stop smoking, eating, and get my body back to where it was before my foot surgery, I realized that I should just flush all of my weed. So, that was it. I was going to do it. I told myself I would do it in the morning, and then fell asleep.

Given that I drink 19 gallons of water a day, I naturally had to pee in the middle of the night. Looking at the ashtray of ground up weed on my bathroom shelf, I thought to myself, "No time like the present!" Without a second thought, I flushed all of the ashtray contents down the toilet. After that, I grabbed my Tupperware container off the coffee table and emptied that stash down the drain with a second flush. It's all gone. Finally! It felt so good to flush it. It would have felt better if it were a real bowel movement, as I'm more backed up than the Don Valley Parkway at rush hour, but this will do for now.

I returned to bed, but couldn't fall back to sleep. After watching so much Harry Potter this weekend, I decided to use a spell of my own: "Abraca-Xanax." All you have to do is pop 1.5 Xanax pills down your muggle mouth, and you'll be asleep in no time.

Morning eventually came, and I wasn't happy about it. I made my lunch, packed my bag – with gym clothes and running shoes – and got to work for 9 a.m. Big Bird was late, but when she got to the office she was actually pretty awesome for most of the day. Big Bird and Hannah, The Clubhouse's Events Manager, were both hungover. Lawrence was away, and most of the other management team took the day off, too. It was kind of a write-off.

After some quick work in the morning to make it look like I had done something productive, I spent until 1 p.m. researching and eventually booking a round-trip flight to New York City. I'm going back, baby! The departure times are ridiculous, but something inside of me just kept saying, "Stay as long as possible!" So, I am. I'm actually coming home at 6 a.m. on the Monday, and will head straight to The Clubhouse for work after that.

Who knows what will happen in New York City. I don't want to have any expectations. I just want an adventure. I'll make my own adventure! I'm excited. The flights weren't cheap – $355 CAD – but it's going to be totally worth it. Just don't get your heart broken. Oh, and don't get a STD. For the love of God, that's all I'm asking!