Flat as a

I laid low this weekend and it was OK.

I mean, I could tell you the truth and just admit I had a crazy drinking episode on Friday that rendered me mostly useless for the remainder of the weekend, but we should keep some mystery between us don’t  you think?

I saw Dillon on Friday night. He was having a tough time and I was glad we ran into him. There was a DJ at the TX but only a few people there to dance. I danced. I drank. I ran into some people that seemed thrilled that I was there.. I got introduced as a poet, a very famous poet. I let it go to my head. They bought me many drinks..

The rest is an unsettling blur.

I don’t really want to talk about it. Thus I avoided all phone calls for the remainder of the weekend as I laid in bed and try to come back to life. I feel like the older I get the harder surviving these ridiculous nights become.  The night just stretched and stretched into some cosmic joke I never seem to get to the punch line fully lucid. Do you know what I mean? How am I supposed to feel when someone thinks I’m a famous anybody and buys me drinks?

But it isn’t all that bad. I just miss my confidant. I have always been able to vent somehow about these nights, but now it just all seems so sad. I am going to stop. Promise.

I gave the 2 of them a copy of my book. I don’t even know if they cared.

Saturday was recovery. I stayed in bed until 3 pm. I ate pancakes with butter and syrup and it was glorious. Sometimes you just have to dig in and remember why everyone loves pancakes so much. It’s because they are so good, especially from Norma’s.

We watched the movie Leaving Las Vegas, which I don’t recommend watching while nursing the most excruciating hang over ever. It didn’t go so well for me, but I thought the woman lead was incredible. I didn’t like the character of the drunk, probably because I saw myself in it so much at that point. No, I don’t drive around swilling handles of vodka or have the DTs when I stop. But there was this attitude of

complacency with his own suicidal behaviors. He just gave in and was on a mission that was more pointed than most. It was the vehicle for the movie, the device.  He was more than a just a bum human being with an obvious disease, but I still didn’t like him and wasn’t sad at all when he died. (spoiler alert, but dude, c’mon) I didn’t like the way his illness prevented even the minutest amount of compassion for the woman who agreed to stay with him throughout his elongated suicide mission. And then again, why did she stay? She was lonely. She’d rather be with that kind of mess than be alone. Oh and she was a hooker and Roseanne’s sister was her landlord.  The End.

Today I started new supplements. A MCT oil to help kick me into keto faster, and a collagen powder for endurance and better skin and hair. They say it also help keep you satiated and fuller longer, which remains to be seen. Since I fell off a little this weekend I hope I can jump back in fully this week starting today.  Breakfast was Coffee, Water, supplements, a boiled egg and a piece of fathead bread.  I wish it was pancakes.

I got my new pop rocks figure in the  mail this weekend and it is Morrissey and it is adorable. I hope Ken Mills forgives me for moving my figure next to Morrissey for a while.

Wednesday is Mad Swirl. I’m anxious but I can’t wait to see my friends. This job has taken a lot out of me, it’s time to go refill.

Thus is Monday’s boring blog. Thanks for hanging, and I’m sure it’s only going to get worse. Screw Monday. There aren’t enough pancakes for me.