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

September 22

September 22

This week has been pretty uneventful, so tonight will be a quick one. Perhaps that's a good thing, though. Sunday will mark two weeks since my last drink, and tonight we're celebrating two weeks since I last smoked weed. Not exactly an eternity, but it's nice that I've been able to avoid the two.

This abstinence goes to show what I've believed all along – I don't have an "addiction" to alcohol or weed. The problem comes when I have the shit in front of me and can't control myself. Anyway, I thought it was worth noting. I'm still hoping to go to an AA meeting. I just need to get off my ass and fucking do it.

Today was actually pretty busy at The Clubhouse. I worked 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. as usual, and Big Bird loaded me with a shit ton of work. I barely looked up from my computer screen all day. That's a good thing, though. It makes the hours go by infinitely faster.

Much to Big Bird's disapproval, I also met with Lucy this afternoon to assist in planning The Clubhouse's upcoming Halloween party. I gave a ton of amazing ideas, while Lucy barely had anything positive to add. Listen, girl. I get that you're "tired" (read: still hung up on your ex), but you need to put a lid on that stuff while you're at work. We all have problems. I know that all too well. However, sulking about your ex-boyfriend in a meeting isn't going to bring the two of you back together. Get your shit together, focus on work to get your mind off of him, and for the love of God, put a pin in it, hon.

After the meeting, I returned to my desk. Naturally, Big Bird asked me how things went. I had no choice but to agree with her. Lucy wasted my time. In fact, I don't really want to work on this party. I have my own shit to do, and I certainly don't get paid to help plan Lucy's programming events. Sorry, girl. This one is on you. I get paid to sit at my desk and do 25% administration work and 75% online shopping work. I'm a very busy woman. I haven't got all day.

I left The Clubhouse at 4:30 p.m., and called The Store on my walk home. Alicia was still wondering what my situation was, as she had yet to process my resignation. Once and for all, I told Alicia that things were done. To be honest, I thought this was the case the whole time. I have no interest in working at The Store anymore, so why prolong things?

As it stands now, it looks like there will be a select group of current and former co-workers from The Store who will join me for a goodbye dinner on October 15. Alicia asked if I wanted it broadcast to all employees, and I said no. I don't want Randy there, and I definitely don't want random newcomers who I don't know taking up my airtime. This is my night to share with the crew who I have really come to love – many whom I have not seen in a very long time. It looks like everyone will be coming too, which is going to be amazing. It makes me happy to know that those girls feel the same way about me as I do about them. I'll probably cry.

Before getting back to the Witch Cave, I stopped by Freeman Formalwear to pick up my wedding suit. All is good in that department. Natasha texted me today, asking if I thought we would be sitting together at Kate and Adam's reception. I told her I had no idea. I have this awful feeling that Kate is going to separate us, which would really suck.

Natasha and I are a package deal. I told Natasha that she could not do any of this to me at her wedding, and she said she would never. Thank you. Finally, someone with a bit of common sense. Even Mom threw me under the bus. I couldn't believe it when Mom's response was, "It's tradition." I almost threw my phone at the wall.

Fuck tradition. And fuck this stupid gender division. It's so archaic. The fact that my mother and best friend are both pulling that card is so disappointing. I thought we had moved past all of that nonsense, and were progressing towards a more inclusive society. Now, it feels like we've taken a huge step backwards all because of "appearance." If Kate separates me from the girls at the reception, I don't know what I'll do. That will be a huge slap in the face.

The other day, Kate also mentioned that only the Maid of Honor and Best Man would be giving speeches at the reception. Although I was upset at first, now I really don't care. I'm actually happy about it, because I don't have to sit down and write something. Still, it would have been nice. I thought maybe Kate would've wanted something from me, as I've known Adam from the beginning. I was around for the first meeting, the first date, the first everything. Honestly, it's fine. I'm not too pressed about it.

After talking with Natasha about the potential seating arrangement, she knew I was disappointed. Natasha offered to talk to Kate on my behalf, but I asked her not to. Here's the thing. I don't want Kate to know that I'm upset about all of this. I know, I know. My silence goes against everything I stand for when it comes to being honest with your feelings. But, this is a different situation. I love Kate. The last thing I want is to make my best friend's special day about me. I also know how to read the room. Expressing my feelings about seating arrangements two days before Kate's wedding would not be a smart move. Just shut up, tuck your shirt into your underwear, and look amazing. That's my plan.

With my suit bag in hand, I schlepped across the street to the Witch Cave. I had dinner, watched some TV, and then took a nap. I was only asleep for about an hour, but during that time span I managed to have an incredibly vivid dream about driving my car straight off a bridge into Lake Ontario. Instead of dealing with my sinking Ford Focus, I just swam away. I don't think anything has been more representative of my current situation than that dream and car. Despite knowing that I was going to drive off the bridge, I had absolutely no intention of pumping my breaks. Interesting.

Barely awake from my nap, I went to the gym and had a fairly successful workout. Although, I still haven't managed to budge in the weight department. It's a fucking nightmare. Thanks to my nap and delayed evening, I got home after midnight. Now, it's 1 a.m. and I'm about to pack it in.

Looking around my apartment tonight, I got a bit nostalgic again. I had some second thoughts about moving. The same thing happened at The Clubhouse today, because it was a "good day" – i.e., I didn't cry. I thought maybe I could stick things out. Keep on truckin', you know?

Nope.

Wrong.

The only thing I am sticking to is The Plan. I need to take this leap into the unknown, and figure things out. I need to have faith in myself. I can do this.

Goodnight xo