Pros: Haley Hannah Harrison, plush couch for sleeping, fake tree, coffee, longevity
I had to move to a new couch this weekend because Friday got weird. Everything was fine until I ran into Frank and Frank ran into Mr. Hyde.
I had about an hour to pack before I had to be out of my apartment for good. I’d had all week to get my shit together to move out, but naturally I hadn’t packed a goddamn thing all week. So it came down to the last hour before I even drug out my suitcase. It was like, fuck it. I’d lost all motivation and still haven’t gotten it back.
I want to thank everyone who has been following my journal. This is a strange time for me and I’ve been feeling very dissociative, so it’s good to have some fans. I guess I’m reaching a few people, at least. But I’ve left something out in telling you this story. Initially, I didn’t want to spill my guts all at once for fear of turning readers off, but in avoiding doing so, I feel I’ve brushed over a few very important details and missed the point all together. So to fill in the gaps, here’s the context of my couchsurfing journal. I hope it provides a bit of clarity.
Pros: nice view, near radiator (warm), pot, Frank
Cons: small couch, near radiator (loud)
Let me tell you a story about rum, rain, and wreckage. Last night I finally moved to a new couch and this is what happened.
One month has passed now.
Each night I sleep on a couch.
The next will be new.
My friend gave me some brief advice on how to avoid losing your shit:
He said your brain is like a computer. When the system fails or short circuits, all you have to do to get it working again is go in there, find the fire, grab your extinguisher, and start putting out fires. That’s all you have to do, he said. And you can do this with anything, anytime you’re in a stressful situation. Just put out the fires.
And I asked, is it really as easy as that?
And he said, yes, it’s really that easy. Most people will lose their heads and make a mess of things, but you and I, we’re smart. We put out fires.
What a stupid week it’s been. I’m finally regathering my wits after a week-long drunk. It wasn’t too good.
It started last weekend on a Friday. I didn’t feel good and I felt like getting drunk, so that’s mostly what I did. Scott went out that night and I had the place to myself and some time to myself for once in a long time. I had some gin and got sad.
Saturday was just a hangover.
Monday was another hangover.
Tuesday I dreamt Aaron was hanging around as a ghost.
Wednesday I ate a pizza I stole.
Thursday I clogged Scott’s toilet.
But mostly I just ate marshmallows on the couch watching Freaks and Geeks.
This weekend was kind of fucked, too. Friday I got drunk with Robby and his girl Dre and we did a bunch of blow and didn’t get to sleep till 6am, since I kept them up all night talking their goddamn ears off and having another meltdown. I should stop being so open with people, I think. It’s a very unattractive quality, to just cry all over everyone all the time.
Anyway, I puked everywhere when I got back to Scott’s the next morning.
A long week of bad nights is what it was. I don’t remember most of it, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be proud of any of it. I’m just hoping for a better week this time.
And needless to say, Scott’s sick to death of me. Might be time to find a new couch, wouldn’t you say?