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Thursday, January 4, 2007

Drunk, Sore, And Still Wide Awake ...

Rolling Stones: Looking Tired (outtake)

Elliott Smith: Needle in the Hay

Retrofunk: Sleep On

Jimi Hendrix: Manic Depression

Lucky Misu: While You Sleep

The Fratellis: Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night

David Pajo: The Insomnia Song

Death Ships: City Never Sleeps

The Smiths: Half a Person

Weezer: Tired of Sex

Public Enemy: Hell No We Ain't All Right

Electric President: Insomnia

Almost midnight. Been up almost 21 hours now. I'm almost drunk, having polished off a big ass 40 oz. of Budweiser on very little food, and yesterday's exercise has finally gotten to me. My abs and my shoulders are in screaming bloody pain. And my eyes feel like they're bleeding.

But I am in no way tired.

Today I was in my children's section busting my ass trying to single handedly get all the displays changed over after the holidays and I hear a "bookseller to customer service" page. So I walk over there and there's this white guy in his fifties who's dressed like a damn tourist visiting New York for the first time. I ask him if he needs any help and, while holding a piece of paper in his hand and standing perfectly still and looking right PAST me, he says that no, he's just looking, thank you.

So I stand there and wait to see if anybody needs some help, wondering why Sadie paged for help when no one was there waiting for help. But in the minute that I'm standing there this tourist-looking bastard is just STANDING THERE looking like he needs help, a fucking piece of paper clutched in his hand, he's drumming his fingers on the damn info desk for Wood's sake. But I just stand there twiddling my thumbs like a damn fool.

A minute later Sadie comes back to the desk, asks the guy if he needs any help, and the guy says "Yes, thank you, I do. I have a list of books that I'm looking for ..."

I walked back into receiving and, hiding in my backstock, I tried not to cry.

And I'm pretty sure I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, which I don't want to go to because I'm going to try and explain why I haven't gotten my blood work done and why I haven't gotten my tests done and why I'm off my meds. And all that's gonna happen is he'll explain the importance of the tests, make me go take them, and he'll just put me on another mountain of medication that's just going to fuck with me head, probably even more so than the pills I just finished NOT taking.

I'm so damn tired but I am in no way tired.

Natasha says welcome to my world. I feel vaguely bad about that.

I'm going to finish off this bottle of Bud and take a few magnesium pills and then try to pass out.

Laters, y'all. Death to shooshers.

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