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

August 31

August 31

I can't believe tomorrow is September. What the fuck? Time always goes by so quickly. I feel like I was just used and abused by the summer, and now fall is around the corner and I'm fatter and more single than ever. Shit.

I woke up bottomless, in bed with Sebastian. I performed my usual morning routine while Sebastian continued sleeping, then left the apartment just as he was waking up.

I have mixed feelings on what happened last night. As it stands right now – at 12:10 a.m. – Sebastian is sleeping on the couch. He was passed out there when I got home from the gym tonight, and fell asleep again while I was on the phone with Naomi. Truth be told, I wanted to be out of the Witch Cave for as long as possible today. I didn't want a repeat of last night.

I don't want to hook up with Sebastian again. It's not that regret anything, but I've realized that I'm not attracted to the guy. At all. I don't want to go down that rabbit hole any further than I already have. I'm not sure how Sebastian feels about everything, though. We haven't discussed anything, nor do I see the point. Hopefully, Sebastian understands that what happened between us last night was by no means the beginning of something long-term. The last thing I want right now is a relationship. As soon as I came last night, the only thing I wanted was a full bed to myself.

Work was ridiculous. Big Bird was away, so you know it was a joke. I did a decent amount of work in the morning, and that's where the productivity ended. After some writing, I walked over to Zara and picked up my mended uniform pants, which had been sitting there for two weeks.

Back at The Clubhouse, I watched The Nanny while I had an extra extended lunch. I did a bit more work, continued writing, and called Mom to catch up. Following that, I essentially did fuck all until my last hour, during which I slept underneath my desk with the office door closed.

Since I left work early yesterday, I had to stay until 7 p.m. tonight if I wanted to make my 40-hour week. I've decided that I need to make my money and milk this Clubhouse cow for all it's worth. You know, before I turn it into a fat fucking burger and chow down.

Big Bird called the office today. A basic check-in, but her pet birds were fucking sounding off in the background. The only thing worse than having to live with Big Bird would be having to live inside a cage while Big Bird talks to you like a baby all day. I'm cringing right now.

When I called Mom this afternoon, we talked about the usual things. Mom's on my side about not budging with the Vegas stuff. Although, she's quite hesitant to give into my "moving to California for three months" idea. I don't know. We'll see. Today, I had less of a desire to shave my head. I guess that's a step in the right direction.

I walked to the gym after work, and ended up spending over three hours there. Mostly because I didn't want to go home, but also because I was responding to a lot of messages in between sets. It's called multi-tasking. Duh. I did my thing, then made it back to the Witch Cave just after 11 p.m.

I was hoping to swap some Xanax with Naomi in exchange for her medical-grade weed tonight, but she never ended up coming by my place. I talked with Sebastian for a bit after I got home, as I had woken him up from his slumber pon de couch. Sebastian secured an apartment today, which was fucking great news. Except, he only gets the keys on Sunday. That is not ideal.

I don't want houseguests anymore. I'm so fucking over this. Sebastian is fine. This isn't a dig at him. I just want to be able to do my own thing again. It's not even an "I hate roommates" situation. The Witch Cave is simply too small for two people to live in. Oh, my God. Can you imagine if I shared this space with a boyfriend? I don't know what's more ridiculous – the idea of sharing my shoebox apartment with a boyfriend, or the fact that I could ever have a boyfriend. Either way, one of us would be dead from the five-story jump out of the window within a month. My apartment is barely big enough for one person. When you add in another permanent fixture – along with their luggage and oxygen intake – it's not exactly a festive moment.

I talked with Naomi over the phone this evening. Her bosses are fucking insane. Naomi couldn't make it over tonight, because she was forced to work an all-nighter out of a condo in Mississauga. Bummer. We continued chatting while I prepped my lunch for tomorrow, washed dishes, and re-washed what Sebastian didn't clean properly. So much to do, so little time. I was supposed to call Naomi back tonight, but I have to pack it in.

I've either been working out really well, or really poorly. My body fucking aches. I feel completely drained right now. I need to sleep. My chest hurts as if I spent the night with a 500-pound boulder resting on it. Baby is in pain. Ouchie.

Goodnight xo