Like clockwork, I will start to feel worn down and a touch more exhausted on Sundays. If I had to make a corny simile, it is as if the cold of Fall starts creeping into a Summer day. Sylvia Plath, look out. By Monday, I am in horrible shape. For example, Monday I spent most of the day laying around in bed. I was asleep until 3pm. My sole attempt at going out last night was limited to sitting on couches, which I eventually wrapped up early because I was seeing double and felt like I had lead going through my veins. Tuesdays are just as bad, but almost worst as far as my headspace goes. These are the days I think the irrational thoughts that no one wants to think, and even less people want to share because they are unpleasant, horrible, serious, and end being the sort of thing that end up being a 5150 situation.
What does it mean? How the fuck do I know? I wasted $60,000 not going to literature classes at UCSC. I couldn't never been a doctor, and self-diagnosis is for idiots. However, it keeps happening this way. Usually by the end of DJing at Eli's on Wednesday, I start to feel pretty good, and by the weekend my energy and attitude are at a weekly high. I feel like I am addressing this via Lexapro and Valium when things get really bad, but regardless of these medications, the cycle continues. I don't really know if this means anything, but I feel like making a note of it is better than nothing.
I received an "unorthodox proposition" from my good friend, Captain Chase Corum last night. Upon getting back to being me, we are going to head off on an Apocalypse Now meets Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas adventure to Thailand. International travel? Best friends? Gooooooood times. It's nice to have something to look forward to in the future. Thanks Chase. Can't wait to lay waste to Asia with you.
I'm DJing tonight at Merchant's in Jack London Square. My good friend Waine from Brooklyn is in town. Shit should get wild. Come hang out. Maybe I can break the cycle of feeling shitty.
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