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

August 29

August 29

This Monday morning was brought to you by Xanax.

Despite the complete haze I was in for most of yesterday, I still managed to drag myself out of bed, perform my usual routine, and leave the Witch Cave with Zoe on time this morning.

I hate saying goodbye to a friend like Zoe, but it's nice to know that we've been able to keep in touch as long as we have. Thinking about the fact that I met Zoe seven years ago actually makes me want to have a nervous breakdown. That was so fucking long ago! I miss the person I was back then. I didn't know as much about the world. Things were just easier. Now, everything has gone to shit. I feel like I have no future. At 19, life was hopeful. Now, it's desolate as fuck with no break in sight. The word "bleak" comes to mind. Fuck. Okay, enough thinking about that.

Work progressed a usual. Actually, it went by very quickly. One of the best front desk days in recent memory. Even Stella was nice today. After opening up that major exhaust vent to Big Bird last week, I feel like it's been made known that I'm unhappy. Perhaps some people are kissing ass as a result.

Speaking of Big Bird, she interrupted me on the five-minute lunch break I had while someone covered for me at the desk. What was so pressing? Well, Big Bird wanted to talk about my flight schedule for Las Vegas. To sum it up, she wants me to cut my trip a day short. Fuck, no! Now, I have to weasel my way out of this one, too? It's always something. I need to stop pretending that I am willing to compromise. Maybe then, these confrontations will stop happening. On a brighter note, Big Bird also mentioned that both she and Lawrence love me. They want to keep me on The Clubhouse team, and are going to try and work something out with the budget. I mean, that's a nice thing to hear.

I've gotta say, I may hate The Clubhouse – okay, I really hate The Clubhouse – yet, somehow, I've managed to fool these people into thinking that I'm doing some miraculous job. The reality is that I do fuck all every day. It's ridiculous. I wonder what the employees before me were like? Perhaps it's my personality? I don't know. Honestly, I do not have an answer for this truly baffling enigma. This seems to happen at a lot of my jobs, though. How am I always able to trick people into thinking I'm so great? Maybe it's a female boss thing. I certainly have a better rapport with feminine energy. I'm not so sure I would get away with this shit if a man were my direct superior.

Katya bailed on our dinner plans tonight. It sort of fucked up my week, but it is what it is. I was very tired by the end of work, so at 4 p.m. I went straight home to an empty Witch Cave. Sebastian had picked up my key earlier and stopped by the place, so his stuff was there. I took a nap after gorging on some ice cream.

Oh, that's another thing. My body was a fucking mess this morning. It still is right now, but I literally couldn't button my pants while getting dressed for work today. This weekend was a fucking joke. The bloat this morning was real. I've officially reached that point in summer where I look in the mirror and say to myself, "Oh, shit. What have I done?" On top of my foot surgery weight gain, it's just a hot fucking mess. I am not a pretty picture.

Overall, today was better for eating. With Sebastian at the Witch Cave this week, I'm hoping he will act as a barrier between me and my kitchen. Listen. I know my eating habits are shameful. That's why I rarely eat in public. However, behind closed doors and as a single 26-year-old living alone, I have no shame. I have nobody to cast judgment, or tell me not to eat something. As a result, I just fucking go for it. And I really do go for it. All of it. And then I gain fifteen pounds, and start having panic attacks.

After my nap, I went to the gym and had a great workout. When I got back to the apartment, Sebastian was there. Fortunately, he did end up acting as interference between me and my fridge. For the first time since I can remember, I didn't eat anything after the gym. Success!

Sebastian and I talked for a while on the couch tonight. The sexual tension from two weeks ago was definitely still there. When I tried to get up off the couch and start getting ready for bed, Sebastian told me to stay. We continued talking. Nothing happened. Eventually, it was time to pack it in.

It's 12:45 a.m. right now. I'm in my bed, and Sebastian is on the couch. I'm about to shut off the lights. I have a feeling Sebastian and I will have sex by the end of this week. Penetration with my roommate. Hmm. Who am I? Zoe?

I exchanged more messages with Stefan today, but he still didn't ask me out. I'm getting annoyed with my little pen pal over here.

I'll be seeing Katya for dinner tomorrow, and then hanging out with Melanie and Selena later in the evening. The week of reunions continues, as does my hopeful weight loss.

I really do need to lose weight. I am so unhappy with myself right now. It was okay with a few extra pounds. In fact, even Dan said that I "needed it." I found that weird of him to say, but now things are completely out of control.

Tomorrow is a new day. I have my salad lunch ready to go. I can do this. Baby steps. The problem is that I am still so fucking hungry all the time. Perhaps if I curb things here and there, I can get this saggy caboose back on track relatively soon.

I'm farting a lot right now. Silently, so Sebastian doesn't hear. Maybe that's a good thing? I always think that people who fart a lot are skinny. Note to self: research farts.

Goodnight xo