Has it been a day? More than a day? Today I decided to get so drunk. And I told my wife the story. I am going to get so drunk, I said. I’m sorry. I said.
I laid down in bed and started to write the post that I don’t want to write. I don’t want to write this post, not because it’s going to be different than other posts in some disturbing way, but rather because it’s going to be very quotidian and bland. So I started to write this post that I have been putting off writing all day, which I am only going to write because I said that I would post every day for the rest of this year and I never do the things that I say I’ll do. I never do the things that I don’t want to do. So now I’m writing the post I didn’t want to write and I realize that I can’t even type it properly on my phone because I’ve wrapped my thumb in a band aid.
What am I even fucking doing today? I don’t know, y’all. I been trying to make this shit more readable, but I don’t even give a fuck right now. I’m sitting in bed with cat hair all over me. I got this hoodie from American Giant or something like that.
Morgan left the house to go out and play basketball. I didn’t see it coming but I’m ready for this dude to be out of my house. I remember when I lived with my other brother, and that got bad enough I think and he had his own room. This dude is just living in the living room. Playing the newest Kid Cudi album while we’re looking for a place for him to live. Took up all morning again. Then I’m washing mad dishes. I don’t even give a fuck about washing dishes these days. I’m all about it. Not like the old days. But damn. Life is off kilter.
It doesn’t even really matter, I guess.
I’m trying to help him pay all his bills and shit on time. Looks like I’m going to have to figure out which bills can wait after all. He can’t make money fast enough. Shit I’m sleepy, too. I’m bout to take a nap, fuck it. Least I can go to work refreshed.
“It’s so chill,” said the girl. But it’s different now.
Yesterday I got so tired. We walked around Central Park and the upper east side. We saw a fire up there. Then we were completely fucked by the subway. Then we tried to negotiate the streets in a Lyft. That was even worse. We had to run a mile to the next station to make sure he got to his second day of work on time. We pretended like nothing happened.
I drank a glass of white wine and felt woozy and phlegm collected in my throat. I slept ten hours and now I don’t want to get out of bed. We have a lot of work to do, but I’m worried I’m neglecting other work I have to do. It’s like I’m back where I was. In some ways. Maybe once I get out of this bed I’ll be alright.
My little brother, Morgan, came to live here the other day. He almost went to prison but instead they just charged him a hundred bucks. I thought it was some kind of marijuana charge but it seems like it was something to do with driving without a registration or something like that. I got him a job at the restaurant. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but most of the people there don’t so why not.
He got here yesterday and I brought him home to drop off his stuff and then I brought him to work. I dropped him off. The bar manager was like, don’t you want to stay a while? Don’t you want to come back and hang out after his shift? I said no and then looked away. She kind of laughed. That was easy.
He’s a quiet kind of guy. I don’t really know him too well.
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I was surprised and delighted when I came home and my wife was not in bed.
She said did you drink?
No do you want to have sex now?
She said she had a stomach ache and has to wake up early.
I was a fool to think that I could understand myself by sitting in a room alone.
I went up the stairs in the library and the security guard walked up. She said, “Hello?” As if it was obvious that there was nothing for me up there. I went down in the basement and there was a bathroom. She said, “Only the first floor is the library.”
I said, “Well it’s written on the whole building: library. I didn’t realize.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you,” said I.