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

December 12

December 12

Weird sleep last night.

Despite living in a hotel that's a mere ten-minute walk to work, getting to the office on time this morning was still a struggle. Mind you, I'm not sure why I rushed. I performed approximately one hour's worth of work all day.

Arriving at The Clubhouse this morning, I felt good. Positive. I'm really enjoying this haircut. I know a lot of it's in my head – or, on it – but making a change like that – one which aligns with other changes currently happening in my life – is so refreshing. I've been waiting so long for this. Now, it's finally happening – and all at once. I love it.

As I said, I didn't do much work today. At all. In fact, I literally spent the first few hours of the day finishing my The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring anniversary article for Amphitheatre. After punching out the introduction, I sent it off to the editor. The whole experience felt amazing. Listen. I know it's not exactly groundbreaking journalism or some thought-provoking piece on – whatever. That article is a big deal for me, though! It's my first professional piece of writing. The idea that I could be paid to continue doing that is incredibly exciting.

Apart from the money, what's even more exciting was that, when I sent the document off, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. Given the nature of the article, writing nerd-approved copy was a daunting task. Not to mention, the fact that it was my first professional piece. More than anything, if I can maintain that sense of pride and confidence in my work, that's all I want. Now, we'll see what Amphitheatre gets back to me with. I'm hoping they like it as much as I do.

The rest of the morning consisted of me posting my leftover Witch Cave furniture for sale online, while simultaneously Facebook chatting with Nicolas Fraser. Speaking of which, that whole situation has got me feeling some type of way.

I'll start off by saying that these chats with Nicolas are by no means a romantic interaction. Not even close. However, I'd also be lying if I said that talking with Nicolas doesn't put a smirk on the catty, conniving bitch inside of me. Come on! This is my ex-boyfriend's best friend. Nicolas initiates a conversation with me every morning. You can't write this shit!

The whole thing with Nicolas is fucking hilarious. If RX found out about our chats, I know that he probably wouldn't be pleased. I can't exactly see RX being upset, but think about it. I certainly wouldn't be happy if Natasha was secretly talking to my ex-boyfriend online. My conversations with Nicolas always start with Mariah Carey, then morph into a personal dialogue. We're not completely superficial. It's awesome. I'm going to have to "Good Mornting" Nicolas again tomorrow to keep this going. It's fucking gold.

In regard to my actual romantic life, I have a feeling that things are about to take a turn for the worse. It's that point in every relationship I've had where one of us loses interest. In this case, it's Colin. I can feel it. As if I'm having a That's So Raven psychic vision. There's been a shift in attitude. I messaged Colin a photo this morning. We had a very brief exchange, and that was the last I heard from him all day.

This is going to sound very millennial of me – perhaps I am reading too far into it – but mark my words: things with Colin are going to head south soon, if they haven't started to already. The difference this time? I'm not chasing. I also don't have any regrets in regard to my behavior. What? Should I not have made out with Colin? We were on my bed and watching a movie in a hotel room for three hours, for Christ's sake. What the hell was I supposed to do? Or, better yet – what the hell was Colin expecting? If another one bites the dust, so be it. If Colin sticks around, I'll be here for that, too. We'll see what happens later this week, if/when our tentative plans take form.

Around 1 p.m., Big Bird flew the coop for a doctor's appointment. This gave me almost two solid hours of uninterrupted personal moments. God bless the internet. When Big Bird returned, that's when I actually tried to work on something. It's my last few days on the job. I'm not too bothered, but figured I should at least have something prepared to show Big Bird in case she pulls a fast one on me. I didn't work for long, though. I took an extended lunch, dicked around in my office for an hour, and then walked home to the Hilton. After hoarding a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies from the lobby, I returned to my hotel room and fell asleep for three hours.

When I woke up, I found myself in a bit of a bad mood. Likely because I shoveled three hockey puck cookies into my mouth before bed and was feeling like a heifer, but who can never be sure? Naturally, who should call during my post-nap grog? Mom. Ugh. Honestly, it was the worst possible time for her to call. I was kind of short with her. I don't understand why Mom calls me to talk about things she doesn't have details or answers for. Like, why are you calling me to tell me that you'll call me back later. Thanks? I felt bad.

In an attempt to work out some of my frustration and pent-up energy, I escaped into the very small – but very empty – hotel gym. Once I had finished my usual routine, I felt amazing. With all of the apartment craziness lately, I haven't worked out since Wednesday. Tonight was a very good session. I kind of love this hotel life. If I can keep it up in the New Year, I'm going to. What's not to love? I could use some vegetables, though.

After the gym, I washed up, watched Mariah's World, and then rubbed one out in bed.

I think I got the weed cravings out of my system last month. I really don't want to touch the stuff anymore. Sometimes, all it takes is a couple of sober days to clear my mind and make me realize that I'm better off without it. Without those days of detoxing, I remain in a cloud. That's when I end up blazing out of habit each night. I really am better off without weed. Actually, I'm better off without a lot of things in my life.

I can't stop thinking about RX. Mostly because of my recent chats with Nicolas Fraser, but also because I know how shitty our situation is. I remember how cruel RX was to me.

On a similar note, today marks one year since my infamous night in New York City. The night I met Logan. Isn't that crazy? It feels like only yesterday that we were sitting on that couch together. How sad that something which carried so much potential, and brought so much happiness into my life, ended so brutally for me. As cruel as RX can be at times, it's nothing compared to the way Logan treated me. Logan told me the most incredible things, then completely shut down and disappeared without any explanation.

While this year has taught me many things, nothing was as big a lesson in self-respect and self-worth than the Logan situation. I don't want to blame everything on Logan, nor do I want to completely use him as a scapegoat for a lot of pre-existing issues in my life. However, the way Logan came into my world – and subsequently left – drained me of any remaining self-esteem I had left. The repercussions of that incident lasted longer than I could have ever imagined.

I feel as though I am finally leaving Logan behind. I want so badly to move onward and upward in this new chapter of my life. You know how this year's second Las Vegas trip was sort of a re-do for me? A bookend on a really bad time of my life? Well, I feel the same way about this upcoming New York City trip. As if all of the pain and depression I experienced after last December's trip will be laid to rest during this next visit.

I don't want to be sad anymore. Given all of the seemingly obvious fortunes in my life, I know this is going to sound both foolish and spoiled of me to say. However, I am finally opening my eyes to all of the good in my life – along with the promise and possibilities of what lie ahead.

Now, I am going to sprawl my entire naked body across this giant king-size hotel bed and have a great night's sleep.

Goodnight xo