I’m feeling a little less… depressed, for lack of a better word, since my last writing. The days move on in a slow promenade, and the hours last eternally, but I pull through.
My problem lies with my free time. Without her, I don’t know what to do, and that’s where the drinking starts. Sober, without her around, I don’t want to do anything. Nothing, not even my favorite things, compel me. But, when I’m drunk, everything is interesting. I can play my bass for hours. I can engross myself in any video game.
As a result of being drunk most every night, I don’t sleep well. I wake up each morning exhausted, and I’m sure it shows in my countenance. I try not to let it affect my work performance, and I don’t think it does – I just feel like shit all day. It’s not fair to myself, and I shouldn’t do it like I do.
Last night was standard procedure for me. I went home from work and immediately had one. I carried on through the night, but was with it enough to recognize that at 10:30 it was time for bed. I remember laying down to sleep, waking up at 4:30 to go to the bathroom, and back to sleep until my alarm at 7. It doesn’t sound like that unusual of a sleep ritual – that is, the average bedtime, one bathroom trip, and an average alarm time, but I woke up exhausted nonetheless. I fathom the body does a lot of detox work while I’m sleeping that consumes any energy that I should be storing.
That said, I’ve always hated mornings. I’ve held fast to the belief that life shouldn’t start before 10 AM. Unfortunately, in the working world, that isn’t always possible. Especially if you’re like me in a 9-to-5 desk job.
Well. I’ve said my piece for now, and I have a meeting soon. I may write more later. I may not. Thanks again for reading and being my temporary companion.