The Long Slow Trip to Hitting Rock Bottom

I don’t know, but it might just be a warning sign that I’m loving Amy Winehouse lately. I mean, come on, “Rehab” has got to be the best bar song. Evah. And, the line “And sniff me out like I was Tanqueray” (from “You Know I’m No Good”) has got to be the best line anyone has ever come out with. But, anyway.

Yesterday was a mixed up day for me. Earlier in the week I had hoped to be spending the day with Afternoon Girl, but that didn’t work out so I was very bummed out about that. On the plus side, I was getting things done in the morning, plus spending some time with the kids. But then in the afternoon–which I set aside to get a lot of shit done–I was so scattered and unproductive that it drove me down and started to cloud my brain. You know what I mean. I knew I had plenty of stuff to get done and instead I’d drive five miles to the store to get gum and smoke a cigarette and then get back home pissed off at myself for wasting time and then sit down to do that work and then minutes later find myself sorting out photos on my computer that don’t really need sorting and then getting more down on myself about that. On top of that no one was returning my text messages and phone calls so I was getting paranoid that I had done something the night before to alienate everyone around me. Hey, I know it’s pitiful, but when I’m in a tailspin like that that’s the way I think.

So, anyway, I decided to do what every depressed person should do. I went out to fill my body with everyone’s favorite depressant. And, sad to say for all of you self-righteous people shaking your heads at me right now, being out at the bar with a bunch of friends and a moderate amount of alcohol was just what I needed to get back on an even keel. Well, actually it all started with a call back from Afternoon Girl. I got to talk out my bad day and hear lots of reassurance and support and friend love and all that. She even promised to crack the whip if that was what I needed, hehe.

Then the secret bar was filled with most of the people that I like best nowadays: the Pharmacist, D.R., D., the Jilted One, not to mention C.G. and the beautiful bartender. Lots of stories were told, lots of typical bar banter–and let me tell you, it’s nice to go to what seems like your own private little club, the bar banter can get pretty fucking hilarious and out there. Then, at one point when I was talking to the Jilted One, an appropos Concrete Blonde song came on and she started singing it to me while stroking my arm. It was a surreal moment. Picturing us hanging out together is like picturing…picturing, um, well too totally opposite things that are hard to picture together.

So, anyway, part of the gang headed out to Spiffled to go to some other bar and D. and the Jilted One headed up the hill to the usual bar. I eventually followed. Up the hill, the bar was filled with lots of people none of us knew so we trashed talked everyone and D. called them amateurs–you know, people who only drink on weekends and think they’re badasses. Not too much was happening there of interest. I talked to Afternoon Girl again on the phone, so that was a sweet part of the evening. Oh, and the Jilted One insisted that we do a Tur’bo together–another sweet, surreal moment for me. And–I just remembered this one–afterward she was putting on lip gloss and put some of it on my lips. That was freakin’ funny and–what’s better–it was a sweet reminder of Afternoon Girl and her lip gloss and all.

And what was crazy about what seemed like a long night was that I was headed home by one A.M. It felt like it was long gone after two, but time must’ve stopped at some point in the evening.

Anyway, that was my long Saturday. We’ll see what Sunday brings me. Wish me luck.


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