Well, I had a cigarette today. I can’t find my stupid vape, so I’m just saying it didn’t count. I was reading back my posts and realized that on April 3rd I said I had quit cigarettes - and it admittedly is written with some dramatic conviction that I only vaguely remember having - but that honestly didn’t last very long. I quit for real awhile ago. And now I’m confessing my sin today.
I’m typing this on my phone because I’m moving and my laptop is dead. I have this constant discomfort, like a hamster in a cage that’s too small. I can’t stand having some of my things in one apartment and some in another. Lima is mirroring my restlessness. But it’ll all be done tomorrow, and I’m just glad I’m not doing it alone.
One thing I know but have a hard time accepting is that I really hate living alone. I sometimes dramatically say that I CAN’T live alone, which just simply can’t be true. But I wouldn’t know, actually, because I’ve always lived either with my parents, or roommates, or dorm mates, or a partner. I used to have a really hard time even sleeping alone in a room. I would be scared to fall asleep, because I’d be anxious about having a bad dream, or something bad happening to me and no one being around. Clearly I am medicated now. But I still get visions of me being alone at home and dying of a heart attack or bleeding out from a wound because no one was around to dial 911. This is all to say that given how anxious I was being alone as a kid, I imagine I would just go insane if I lived alone. Hopefully I’ll never have to lean into that insanity.
Speaking of insanity, I manically cut my bangs on Friday night and within a few hours the regret had crept up on me, hot and uncomfortable. They are so bad and beyond fixing. But the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is about 6 weeks. At that point I’ll seek professional help and maybe have some cute curtain bangs for fall. This whole post is just about confession it seems… hopefully it can be about reconciliation too, my dear reader…
Everything will be right in the world when I finish moving all my shit into the apartment tomorrow and sit on my living room floor with a cold Heineken. And if it isn’t, at least I’ll finally be able to find my vape in the rubble…
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