Precocious Panic

I was shocked to discover that I had no hangover. On seeing the empty wine box, I supposed I can fathom drinking a 2 liter of diet coke in a night, this wasn't that different. On seeing the vomit splashes in the bathroom, I supposed maybe it was a bit different.

We watched a TED talk for the weekly meeting, and it was a fairly brilliant (and attractive) man talking about procrastination. Very simply explaining the mechanics of instant gratification vs panic, and the reason those mechanics can fuck with your life. There's no due date. I worked during most of the talk, because I had a "due date" in the sense of 4pm. Given that I hate videos anyway, the fact that I did tune in for the second half of the talk anyway speaks very highly.

I listened to Amsterdam on repeat with my headphones on (I still haven't taken the time to learn the Bluetooth ones), and was quite startled to see a black shape dart around the corner. Tim had texted to ask if he could come over with Pupple, but I was too focused on work and Amsterdam to notice that or my door sliding open. We chatted briefly, but I was eager to get all of my work done, so I closed the door and merged back into the flow.

I got the bright idea to ask Tim to take my car to get smogged, but he decided to head home instead. And then I tried to journal after work, but just as I was finishing one of the days, the mouse connection went wonky and the page refreshed. I guess I wasn't logged in, because the Saved Draft was no help, either.

I tried and tried, but I couldn't focus or remember what I'd just posted. I saw another depressive post from Kenneth and reached out again, but I got up to grab my tea from the microwave and he got mad at the delay. I took a lot of edibles and smoked a lot, even for me. It wasn't as good as the times that GHB worked for me, or even that time I couldn't recognize my apartment but... I guess.