Shit. A snow storm is coming this weekend. I guess a big one. It better fucking be huge, since I am going to have to stay overnight at work tomorrow. ON MY DAY OFF, just so I am sure to make it to my shift the next day. I stocked up on essentials this morning. Rum, Coke, beer, snacks. I plan to do my homework, drink until I'm stupid, listen to music, mope, and write some shitty poetry. And maybe a good poem, but that is not likely. At all.
I don't know how to be alone in a hotel room. It's always lonely and uncomfortable. Last time this happened, I brought productive things to do, a book, things I don't have time to do at home, or things that require more concentration than I can muster at home. But did I do anything productive? NO. I drank, sat around feeling mopey, drank more, looked at facebook, drank more, wondered how many of the hotel guests were fapping in their rooms at that very moment, drank more, flipped on the TV, found a stupid movie that I did NOT want to watch, watched it, bawled like an idiot because that's the reaction that movie was designed to induce, fell asleep feeling like the only person alive, and then me and my hangover woke up in the morning to the music of slamming doors.
In a shite mood. My Ethics instructor emailed me this evening, concerned that I'm not participating in class. It's an online class, and far as I know, I have not missed any deadlines. So really. Fuck that guy. I'm doing the best I can. The first real assignment is due on Sunday before midnight. This is, hmm, FUCKING THURSDAY. I appreciate his concern, but...no...no, I actually don't.
I'm on a Depeche Mode kick tonight, so I will leave you with this: