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

August 11

August 11

Do you ever feel cursed? I realize that I'm asking this after I ended my last journal entry with a sentimental rant about how blessed I am, but I honestly think I am cursed. I'll get more into that later, though.

I woke up this morning from the strangest dream. I dreamt that the world was empty. It was just completely – empty. I was living on Earth, but it was like a blank slate. It was just me, alone in some strange white world where there was absolutely nothing around me. I have no idea what it meant, but it was lonely. Time felt everlasting. I had this sense that I could do whatever I wanted, but it wouldn't matter because there was nothing to do anything with. I was the only person in the entire world.

After a lot of snoozes, I finally got out of bed – once again, with a horrible sore throat. My throat has been this way since I hooked up with Spencer. At the rate things seem to be going in my life, I wouldn't be surprised if I had a STD again. A part of me also thinks it could just be from complete exhaustion, though. I barely get six hours of sleep a night, and then I'll go all day from 7 a.m. until 1 a.m. without any sort of rest in between.

On another note, I'm not noticing any difference from all the time I've been spending in the gym. It's making me really angry. I weighed myself again this morning, and the pounds are all still there. I'm so fucking screwed. The worst part is that I can't stop eating. I'm hungry all the time. From the minute I wake up, to the moment I go to bed, I think about food constantly. I steal food every 15 minutes at work, and shove it down my throat like a complete lunatic.

I got to The Clubhouse on time at 9 a.m., and saw Benjamin Russo waiting outside the building. Much to my surprise, Benjamin was with a girl I spent Pride with this year during my brief moment with Veronica and Riley. We reminisced quickly and shared a couple of laughs. I'd completely forgotten about her, to be honest.

Although the club only opens to members at 10 a.m., I told Benjamin and his friend to come upstairs with me. There wouldn't be any service for another hour, but at least they could sit down. Why not? They're my friends, and even at 9 a.m. it was hot as all hell outside. I wanted to help them out.

It's true what they say. No good deed goes unpunished. It wasn't even 9:05 a.m. before Stella marched up to the front desk and gave me a huge, long lecture about what I had done – as if I had just set fire to her childhood home. Stella was furious that I had let a member into the building before we opened. The whole thing was fucking ridiculous. It completely set me off. Add on the fact that it was boiling hot in the club all fucking day, and I was not in a good mood.

Today was absolutely horrible. Fortunately, I was relieved for a few hours in the afternoon and was able to escape to my office. Nonetheless, all of the staff were in an awful mood. It totally rubbed off on me. I want to quit.

Big Bird was a complete psychopath today. She had a massive amount of work to get through, which was fine because it kept her relatively quiet while I worked in our office, but her Looney Tunes dust cloud of craziness is not the environment I want to work in. Things were a thousand times more hectic at The Toronto Film Group, but we always managed to keep it light and entertaining while still getting the job done. The Clubhouse is a total nightmare. Working at the front desk is the most degrading job I have ever had, and that's coming from someone who has worked at McDonald's.