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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August 12
Hallelujah! Big Bird was away today! With absolutely zero pressure at work, my day was almost guaranteed to be a good one.
After my usual morning at home, I got to work at 9 a.m. in a cute little turtleneck and high-waisted palazzo pant ensemble. As with most people, I feel my thinnest in the morning. It's only once I have a granola bar that I balloon out to a 38-inch waist. I still haven't lost any weight, by the way. Surprise, surprise! Maybe it's because I bought a box of Eggos after watching Stranger Things. At least they were fiber Eggos. Who even knew those existed?
I got a call from Dan this morning about his toe. It turned out that he couldn't sleep last night, and went to the ER at St. Mike's Hospital at 4 a.m. After an X-ray, it was confirmed that Dan had indeed broken his big toe. I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure he was just in a lot of pain from some sort of intense impact. I swear, we are cursed. I wonder who's next? Or perhaps, what is next?
I spent the better part of my morning working on random items, but nothing was that important. Big Bird and I can talk about different projects all day, but it always feels somewhat empty. I either can't move forward with things because I need approval on so many levels, or I get pulled away from my tasks every five minutes when I'm asked to process different administration items.
Another problem I'm finding with my job is that Big Bird never follows through on anything. Knowing that, I'm less inclined to put time and effort into something that's not going to happen. Maybe I need to forget about all of that, though. At a certain point, Big Bird is going to want to see some results. I can only bullshit so much. We have about 12 projects on the go right now, and I haven't done anything for them. Today, I commissioned an elevator sign to be made. We'll see how that goes. A sign was also enough work for one afternoon. After sending a couple more emails, I checked out for the rest of my shift.
I had my lunch, trolled the internet, and then met up with Lauryn at Starbucks where we talked a lot about writing. I'm really conflicted when it comes to talking about my writing, especially with someone like Lauryn. Don't get me wrong. Lauryn is the first person I want to talk to when it comes to writing. Not only is Lauryn an amazing writer herself, but she is always very encouraging and appreciative of my work. To have an established author respect and compliment your writing is an incredible feeling.
When it comes to Lauryn, I'm conflicted because her encouragement is often accompanied by wanting to connect me with other writers. That scares me. I don't know if I'm ready to write for other people yet. I also don't have the time right now. I can barely keep up with my daily journal entries, let alone write professionally.
The Clubhouse job takes up so much of my time. By the time work is done, I eat dinner, and go to the gym, I'm left with a short window of time to write an entry before bed. After that, I'm out for the night at 1:30 a.m. – usually as a result of extreme exhaustion, masturbation relaxation, Xanax, or a combination of all three.
