We need Hammocks

My new work schedule is throwing me for a bit of a loop.

Perhaps its the summer time. And/or alcohol related, which relates to my social life. But I've seen the sun rise more times in the past two weeks than I have in years.

It does not help my situation, that I can roll into work five minutes before two in the afternoon.

What really gets me is trying to suddenly make the extra morning time more productive and fruitful, as it slowly counts down towards time for work.

Staying up really late hasn't exactly been productive either. Mainly due to the level of intoxicants in my body by that time. It hasn't stopped me from drunken texting people or messaging people at all hours of the night.

...

She was making a quiche. I had come over early thanks to my ride to her house, who came by to pick me up as he went for supplies to install her new drier. And we sat at her kitchen table, drinking refreshing beers and catching up on gossip in the community, eagerly awaiting the next episode of Battlestar Galactica.

We were discussing my recent attempts at trying to re-enter the mad, crazy world of dating, my list of potential suitors, she said something that really resonated.

"But, oh, you're still broken..."

Not broken hearted, just broken.

That's how I feel lately. Especially when it comes to my emotional state. I have weird mood swings, and usually find myself quite sentimental late at night, and craving attention and affection.

I said, "I don't necessarily want to be in love right now, or a relationship. But I want some random someone to profess they're love for me..."

...

My spies had done they're job.

The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing of its existence.

I laughed about it. My friend texted me a warning of ex-sightings at the bar. I did get grumpy about it, and pondered not going out, but decided to suck it up and go anyway.

I was sitting in the downstairs, debating on whether or not to go upstairs to dance the night away, when a friend texted me that she needed a dance partner. She came down stairs to find me, and we purchased beverages and I snuck upstairs, and we danced to some sweet soul records, despite my reservations about going upstairs.

We hung out for the rest of the evening. Stopping by people's porches, hanging out and talking , and then walking around town, to settle on my the steps of my porch, until the birds began they're singing for the day.

I've been enjoying these nights. Staying up to the wee hours, simply talking with fellow humans.

...

Well, its about that time. Time to rev up the drinking engine, and see what Saturday night has to offer...

Goddamn Banana Peels

The YMCA saved my life.

Its always an awkward thing, waking up in a relatively stranger's house, especially a stranger with roommates, who are awake and are standing between you and the bathroom.

Not wanting to be "that guy," though I had every right to. Duty calls in the morning. Its very serious business. But I opted out. And was Captain Clench walking down the streets of this town, a beautiful and bright, sunny Sunday afternoon.

And there, like a golden statue blazing in the sun, a beacon of hope, was the YMCA. Sweet relief.

...

She didn't show up for the burlesque show, which was probably for the best. Something was amiss that night anyway. The first two drinks I had sort of threw me off for some reason, and I found myself a little bit tipsy right from the start. Which didn't stop me from drinking more, but only ensured that I would do something stupid by the end of the night.

I felt foolish, standing there. So I sort of propositioned an old friend of mine. "I need a friend," I said. "Just sleep in my bed." And I meant it, though I think she took it the wrong way. I mean, we used to do that sort of thing. Just cuddling. Vows of not engaging in sex with each other. I figured it be ok, and I was feeling, reeling, in some sort of odd, emotional abyss.

So I went home. And got drunk dialed by another friend at four in the morning, which was sort of what I needed. Some sort of attention.

I don't know what's up with my emotional state these days. Something in me is screaming, I need fulfillment.

...

And last night. It was sweet. Staying up until 6:30 in the AM. Drinking steadily, I swear, her and I together together would probably be bad news, and end in AA. Like something from a Mountain Goats song off of Tallahassee.

But there we were, the sun fully risen, all of our bloodshot eyes, smoking cigarette after cigarette, talking about Battlestar Galactica, and playing Mario Kart drunkenly racing off the course.

I knew it wasn't going to end in a romantic happening. And I was ok with that. Though I was surprised, when I gave her the "I gots to go," line, and then she asked me to tuck her in, so sweetly. And then to sleep over. Which was good, because my tired ass didn't feel like huffing it all the way home.

But what a great night. A martini at the Cafe, watching the game, and then to a punk rock show at the punk rock house which always stirs the angry youth in me, watching my friend's hard core band. His birthday, a noise violation which everyone chipped in money so they could play three more songs. Three, one minute songs. Then to a bar for the Photo Booth, which I'm addicted to and will gladly shell out dollar bills for. And then to the The Bar, for shenanigans. And then she sent me the text, inviting me over for a night cap...

Pure magic.

And now I have to go to work. I'm going to zombie my way through this day, for sure.