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

December 27

December 27

I went outside today. As in, I actually put on shoes and made it further than my newfound smoking corner on the Walkers' backyard porch. Progress? Maybe. Progress on what, though?

We should have gone home today. In fact, most of the day felt as though we had overstayed our welcome in Montreal. Ask anyone else, and they'd probably deny it. Perhaps it's just me being uncomfortable in someone else's space. Nevertheless, today I had reached my limit. I was ready to leave. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen.

I woke up to an iMessage from Jessica. It was a reminder about the get together we had scheduled for tomorrow night with Kate and Adam, which I naturally had to reschedule. I slept in pretty late on purpose this morning. Once I had finished my usual Good Mornting routine of going through my phone, drinking a liter of coffee, and having four kleechas, I got to work.

Following a short bout of writing, I devoted some time to the greater good – making myself look presentable from the neck up. Listen. My body is a mess. Not only that, but the bloating isn't going to improve until I leave this house. Right now, my only chance at recovering any semblance of self-esteem is to fix my face. I did a Bioré strip, a charcoal mask, and also cut an inch off my hair. Spoiler alert: nobody noticed.

Unfortunately, my mini makeover didn't exactly take an eternity. As soon as I was done, I had Mom and Aunty Joyce yelling at me from the kitchen.

"Kurt!" the sisters shouted in unison. "Come and eat something! We're going to see the new Star Wars movie!"

See? My body doesn't stand a chance.

Amidst the usual madness of leaving the house as an extended family unit, the group piled into the car. After dropping Mom off at a mall – the woman has no interest in The Resistance – Phillip, Dad, Aunty Joyce, Uncle Will, and myself all drove to Cineplex for Rogue One: A Star Wars Story.

Carrie Fisher died today. As a result, it was definitely an odd time to be seeing a Star Wars film. Or, maybe it was good timing? I don't know. What I do know, is that I wanted to be extremely stoned for this movie. Fortunately, Phillip was on the same page. As soon as the group found our seats, we darted out of the theater and inhaled a fat joint in 2.5 seconds before running back inside.

The film was really good. I didn't even get that high, though. Bummer. Well, I guess you can't complain all that much when smoking your neighbor's free weed. What made the whole movie even crazier, was that the very last frame of the film featured Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia. Spooky.

I'm afraid of dying. I feel as though I haven't done enough with my life. I am not ready to leave this planet yet, without having made some sort of impact on it. I'm not looking to have a statue made of me, or spark some profound cultural revolution. I just want to make my mark, you know? However small that might be.