Sunday February 15, 2009

10:00 AM alarm goes off. I reset it for 11:00 (I start work at noon today). I get up at 11:00, hit up the Advil and water (slight hangover), take a leak and head into the kitchen for some much needed coffee. I slam a few cups, shower, brush my teeth, feed the cats and head out the door.

Once in hell (work), I find out I'm working with Ryan, which ultimately blows goats because not only do we have nothing in common, but I find myself totally uninterested in anything that comes out of his mouth (mainly because everything that does come out of his mouth is not worthy of remembrance nor is it worth giving undivided attention to).

I try to find things to keep myself occupied to avoid having to resort to uncomfortable and uninteresting conversing between my manager and I. I rock a burrito from Chipotle (I feel a sense of shame because I'm not supposed to be spending money right now) and Ryan asks if I can pick him up something. Just as I'm about to collect his money, he tells me he doesn't have any cash and will pay me back for however much his food costs. This throws me even further into a pissed off state because now I'm not only spending money on myself, but I'm spending more on someone else. I reluctantly agree, however (because I'm fucking starving and need t get out of the store for a few minutes) and head over there.

Unnecessary impulse purchases aside, the burrito was fuckin' brilliant. Normally I would go out for a smoke after such a triumphant feast, but (fortunately and unfortunately) I am attempting to quit smoking. It's a fortunate decision for obvious reasons that I don't need to point out, but it's unfortunate because I never realized how fucking irritable I can get when I don't have a steady fix of nicotine in my system. Regardless, I don't even have a pack on me, so I couldn't relapse even if I wanted to (and I so wanted to).

5:00 PM hits and I run in back to count down my drawer. Ryan asks if I want to stay an extra few hours (for him) and I tell him in so many words to get fucked because I wouldn't be getting paid the manager's salary for being the "manager on duty" in the event that I would cover the remaining hours of his shift. Of course I pussy out when it comes to telling him to shove it up his ass and simply just tell him that my parents are in town and I have a family party to get to (which isn't a lie, we are actually celebrating my Mom's birthday at my cousin's condo). I pimp out of there about quarter after and bomb over to my cousin's (which just happens to be on the complete opposite side of fuckin' town).

After a good 35-minute drive, I finally arrive at my cousin's place. I find a parking spot and then call my Dad so he can direct me to just where in the hell their condo is located. After finally discovering said destination, I walk in, wish my Mother a happy birthday (because without one, I wouldn't be here), greet my Dad, and hugs all around to the rest of the family. My sister couldn't make it out so I make sure to call her and give her shit. I make myself a gin and tonic, grab some food and head out to the living room to mingle with the extended family.

The night goes well (as do the three more gin and tonics) and I end up spending over an hour chatting with my cousin's boyfriend, Andrew, about film. He goes to film school and has access to a shit load of rental equipment, all of which I have a boner for. I end up telling him all about my screenplay (I usually avoid telling people about it because I'm a pussy, but I'm fairly buzzed so it all comes out) and he tells me that he is going to school to study cinematography. Long story short, I persuade him to be my personal D.P. on the movie (persuasion actually wasn't really used, I more or less just asked him and he said "o.k."). We exchange numbers and I tell him I'll e-mail him a copy of the first draft so he can read it over and start setting up storyboards and other D.P. related shit.

We all take off around 9:00 or so. Tool hitches a ride home with me because my parents drove him there but were heading back to Peoria straight from my cousin's. We all say our goodbyes and head home. Tool rocks a smoke and it takes every ounce of will power in me (which isn't much) not to have one. I successfully make it home without giving in. I feel accomplishment. Go me.

I head into my room and check my e-mail and proceed to indulge in my private bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label in my lower desk drawer. I pour myself a glass of the scotch as a nice little night cap while I update the diary. After all is said and done, I brush my teeth, throw on some sweats and pass out watching episodes of Flight of the Conchords.