Fuck. I keep getting too high to write these journals before bed. Here we go again.
This weed bender is killing me. All of my progress is going to waste. It’s as though I can see and feel my recent lack of productivity, weight gain, and lethargy – but won’t step on the breaks. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s all so self-sabotaging. How can something that makes me so happy, have such negative side effects? I ask that question as if I haven’t experienced the same issue with every other vice in my life. Don’t even get me started on the other stuff. At this point, there’s not enough space left to write about alcohol and RX.
This morning was bleak. After wedging my bloated corpse out of bed, I made it to The Clubhouse for 11 a.m. and hardly did any work all day. When lunchtime rolled around, I went upstairs for my usual gossip fest with Emma. I’m still unsure if it was a good idea to tell her, but Emma is now the only person at The Clubhouse who knows that I am quitting. At the same time, if word gets out – oh, well? I mean, my resignation is happening either way. I’m not too pressed about it.
After lunch, all of the Clubhouse’s staff gathered in the member dining room to shoot a silly mannequin challenge video that will be used for the holiday email. Why the kitchen team thought it was appropriate to take off their shirts and man-spread their hairy backs all over the food prep counters was beyond me. Looks like I’m never going to have that Clubhouse meal after all.
As usual, I went to the gym after work. Following a very distracted routine, I only ended up getting back to the Witch Cave around 9 p.m. It made me wonder – what do other people do with their time after work? My schedule is so rigid that I know exactly where I’ll be after work, and how long I’ll be there. What about other people, though? Do they stay at work late? Do they go home and watch TV? This is all I know, really. To be honest, I prefer it this way. Going to the gym after work keeps me occupied, healthy, and able to eat the junk food I consume every night before bed.
Back at the Witch Cave, I cleaned up the joint, ate, smoked, ate, ate some more, smoked again, and watched The Simpsons before eventually masturbating and spending five minutes trying to pee.
I’ve still been thinking a lot about relationships and marriage. The idea of a long-term connection continues to feel increasingly foreign to me. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t been in a stable relationship for so long. Or, maybe it’s because the short-term one-offs haven’t offered any signs of longevity. Either way, the whole concept of marriage scares me more and more each day. Sure, it’s romantic. It’s companionship. It’s a truly idyllic vision of what your future could be. But, how often is that vision a reality? I don’t know. Perhaps my skepticism has something to do with the endless stream of guys in “Open Relationships” that I encounter every day on Grindr and Tinder.
When it comes to relationships, what really scares me is when I think about the fact that people can change. That’s not limited to a partner, either. What happens if I change? What happens if my partner doesn’t change with me? Where do I go from there? Am I the relationship type? Lately, I’m beginning to think that perhaps I’m not. Of course, that could also be my way of rationalizing my complete lack of a love life. I don’t know. I still want a kid, though.
Goodnight xo
Taking a picture for Mom. This is the same moisturizer that made me look like Donald Trump last month. Witch Cave, Toronto