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

December 4

December 4

Surprise, surprise. I woke up hungover. Yet somehow, I made money last night? Thanks, Bryce.

Rolling over in bed this morning, it took me a while to piece together last night. Well, at least by my standards. I still maintain the belief that my blackout recovery skills are so well developed, I should open a private detection agency.

Texting Colin from bed, we ended up making spontaneous brunch plans at Smith. While getting myself together, I had a That's So Raven vision about all of my antics at the bar. Everything came rushing back. The guys I saw, what I said to Stefan, twisting Lucas Ingraldi's nipples, Bryce leaving early because he was so drunk, and everything that happened at Phillip's place. Oh, well. We go through a moment, and we come out on the other side. Moving on!

After meeting Colin across the street, we settled into our table at Smith and had another really great date. Colin paid. By the end of our meal, I had worked up the nerve to invite Colin over to my place. I thought we could watch TV, or whatever. When I finally asked Colin outside the restaurant, he said he was too tired. Ugh. As if! I was so bummed.

Colin went to the subway. I walked back to my apartment. With nobody's lips to bite or tongue to suck, I put my mouth to my pipe and smoked a ton of weed. Naturally, I also got way too stoned.

A few hours later, Phillip pick me up at the Witch Cave. We drove up to Casa Z, and I unloaded some items from my apartment. By the way, I was expecting the house situation to be way worse. Listen. It's certainly not ideal. I mean, both of my parents are still living out of a Hilton. However, Dad has made it seem as though the whole house is a write-off. That is definitely not the case.

Once finished at Casa Z, the entire family regrouped at Mom and Dad's hotel. I felt so fucking bad for Tabitha. Obviously, I have my own set of guilty feelings in regard to what my parents are going through right now. But, think of the kitty! You can just tell my little fur-baby is on edge. It breaks my cold, black, stoned, cholesterol-ridden heart.

In the spirit of giving gifts that can be consumed, I gave the family their David's Tea "24 Days of Christmas" gifts tonight. I think they all loved them. Much to my surprise, especially Phillip. I mean, it's tea. What's not to like?

Following the gift exchange, we loaded into the car and drove to Jack Astor's for dinner. The meal was frustrating, to say the least.

Mom and Dad are beginning to get very, very old. Their stubborn mentalities are driving me absolutely insane. I don't know how to develop the patience for them. I am slowly learning, but it's getting to be too much already – and they aren't even 60! I'm sure the worst has yet to come. Although I'm aware that my parents' behavior is based in love, they just never stop talking! This is difficult to write about. I find it hard to express my opinions and feelings on my parents without sounding like a psychotic, spoiled brat asshole. To a certain degree, I feel guilty over it. Then again, what don't I feel guilty over when it comes to my family?

Since I was spending the night, we all went back to the hotel together. Much to my disappointment, I couldn't watch the premiere of Mariah's World on the Hilton's cable system. As if that weren't abusive enough, I also won't be getting any sleep on this shoddy pullout couch with springs sticking out of it.

The Sunday Blues hit me hard today. Harder than they have in a long time. Not just a general sadness, but a sadness and depression for my future. As a result, I spent most of my day thinking quite negatively about a lot of the new steps I am taking in my life. I'm going to try and sleep it off. I also feel like a fat cow after two big meals today.

I hate Sundays.

Goodnight xo