Fucked Up Day

This morning I woke up feel pretty shitty after having had drinks at Therapy last night with a couple of friends. I wasn't hung over. I had just a couple of cosmos, and I ate some greasy calamari while watching Brad Loekle terrorize some straight man during Electroshock Therapy, Therapy's weekly comedy show.

I didn't realize that it wasn't my stomach that was feeling shitty, it was my spirit.

In reverse order here is why today pretty much tops the Shittiest Day of All Time list.

1.) About a month ago, I got locked out of my apartment, couldn't rouse anyone, and so I checked into a hotel down the block from my house. The room was outrageous at $300 and some change plus tax. But it was either that or sleep on the street. Today, after reviewing the credit card statement, it turns out that the new girl working at the desk at the hotel double or triple charged the room, as the charge came up to $1,076. David, understandably, was fairly furious.

2.) I took out some cash day before yesterday to help out a family member. The ATM machine charged us double. So I got out $200 for the price of $400. David got more angry.

3.) This morning one of my best friends who also happens to be my ex-boyfriend decided to remove himself from this life permanently. His Father found him and called us as my ex's current boyfriend has been staying with us for a few days from Virginia.

What an awesome way to start off my vacation week. This day fucking sucks. I feel disconnected from everything at the moment. The sound of people talking literally sounds like it is coming to me through an echo chamber. The sound of my own voice sounds desperately cheap to me. Two out of the three items above are consequences of my own stupidity, machine error, or human error. We don't have the money to lose, but, more importantly, I shouldn't have lost my friend.

I think I am so angry that I can't feel shit. Even writing this is like I am sitting inside of a small cubicle somewhere in the back of my brain directing an over sized human shaped plush stuffed toy to do this typing. Mimzy is chewing her food in the kitchen, and it sounds what I would imagine a giant mechanical pig would sound like as the pieces crunch and then hit its stomach with little pings.

Oh yes, and to top it all off, I got visited by what I assume to have been Chris' ghost. No, I am not losing it, yet. But I was laying in the bed, and I woke up because someone stomped through the bedroom on the way to the kitchen. I hate it when David wears shoes in the house because he pretty much clod hops through the house as if he is marching to war. So, I figured that he was doing his usual house drills. I looked up from the bed, and in the TV, I could see the reflection of someone moving back and forth in the kitchen. I thought David was leaving to go somewhere, so I shouted out to him. The figure in the reflection stopped moving. The only problem was that David was in the studio which is in a room, through a door, BEHIND the television. David came into the bedroom to tell me that he was there. And when I looked up the figure in the TV was gone.

If there was a 911 to call for drama, I would have picked up the phone.

I am trying to make as much sense out of this as possible. Actually, that is a goddamn lie. I am avoiding actually thinking about any of this. I feel as if a force shield has come down somewhere between my heart and my rib cage. Another one has wrapped itself around my brain, sort of like shrink wrap or those shrinky dinks you used to put in the oven as a kid. And another one has carved itself into the space around my body just above my skin. I want to care about what's happening right now. I want to care about Peace in the Middle East, Haiti, Greenhouse emissions and LeBron James, but I can't. I am taking a break from reality. I'll let you know when I get back.