Despite my personal pep talk in last night’s journal entry, today wasn’t much more productive than any other day this past week.
It’s now been one week since my surgery. In the interest of staying positive, that means there are only five more weeks to go. That being said – and here’s the negative slipping in like it usually does – I have a strong feeling that the sixth week will not be the end of this recovery. However, on another a positive note, I’ll be able to wear a sandal and not look like an extra from Jurassic Park.
I stayed in bed pretty late again this morning. Last night’s Xanax really knocked me out. I ended up taking two pills, which was equal to 1mg. I didn’t feel the effects as fast as I thought I would. Nonetheless, once I was out, I was out. I wonder how doctors prescribe the stuff, though?
Back in October, when Dylan and I spent that weekend in SoCal together, he told me that he had a Xanax prescription. When we were talking over the phone the day after my surgery, I asked Dylan about it. Dylan said that his prescription was a 0.5mg dose – the same as mine – but that his doctor said he should only take half of each pill. Dr. Cohen and my pharmacist both instructed me to take the full pill. Is the medication prescribed by body size and weight, or by intensity of the panic attacks? Both? I don’t know. I also don’t know how someone would take as much as I was reading about in those SWIM stories last night. You would be so fucked up.
As I said I would yesterday, I made a list of things I want to accomplish during my recovery:
Schedule 2nd post-op appointment
Hang pictures in bedroom
Trim body hair
Transcribe 2012 journal entries
Driver’s license renewal
Health card renewal
Research job openings
Finish cleaning closet
Call The Store re: foot
Decide on The Clubhouse
It took everything in me not to add “11. Take a shower” to the list, as that really should have been one of the top priorities of my day. It probably wouldn’t have mattered, though. I had zero motivation to do anything today. It was much easier for me to stay in bed all day, watching a disgusting amount of TV shows, eating, and spending too much time on the internet.
Earlier in the day, I received an email from The Toronto Film Group. Valentina finally let me know that they would not be moving forward with my application. To be honest, I think I’m getting a little too good at blocking certain things out of my memory. Or, maybe I’m just used to the rejection at this point. I only remembered that Toronto Film Group email as I was writing this entry just now.
That events contract application was my last attempt with The Toronto Film Group. How fucking stupid can you be as an organization to not bring on someone you have worked with before? I’ve done three contracts with The Toronto Film Group. I have glowing references from every department head I’ve worked with. Furthermore, I actually want to work for the organization, despite the fact that it’s a sinking ship with people leaving every week. Fucking fools!
Anyway, that was that. Now, I remember why I blocked it out.
Mom came in my room this afternoon, as she usually does. We’re operating on visits approximately every 15-minutes at this point. I’ve actually started calling Mom “The Warden.” Well, not to her face.
Mom and I talked about the rejection email from The Toronto Film Group. Naturally, Mom wanted me to get more answers as to why I was passed over. Eventually, I will. But, I also don’t care that much anymore. My focus is now on The Clubhouse, and what my decision will be on their job offer. I begrudgingly went over some questions with Mom that I’ll ask when I next talk to Robyn.
Soon after Mom left my room, Dad paid me a visit. He knocked on my door, and entered carrying a massive Edible Arrangement, which had been sent by Kate and her crew. It totally brightened my day. Honestly, that girl is the sweetest human being to ever grace this earth. I am so grateful to have Kate as a friend.
Truth be told, if I only had Kate and Natasha as friends, that would be all I needed. Unfortunately, both girls actually have lives of their own. If they were my only friends, I’d likely end up spending the same amount of time in solitude as I do now. Kate and Natasha are true friends, though. I would do anything for them. We’ve seen one another at our best, at our worst, and there’s never drama or judgment on anything. It’s just easy. That’s how a friendship should be. I miss them.
Later in the day, I called Robyn at The Clubhouse and we spoke for a long time about the job. Well, it was less about the job and more about the specifics surrounding wage, vacation, and benefits. The Clubhouse wants to pay me significantly less than what I had initially asked for, and they won’t give me health benefits. Both of those things are an issue for me.
If I’m being honest, even if Robyn comes back with an, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I will still take the job. So, I guess that’s the one thing I crossed off my to-do list today. I decided on The Clubhouse job. It feels good, but also slightly lackluster. I expected this to be my Valerie Cherish “Well, I got it!” moment. However, what it really feels like the sixth take of that scene, and I want to storm off the set. Accepting The Clubhouse job is more like, “Well then, I’m done! With this part….”
Nonetheless, I think this will be a positive step forward. One thing that really swayed my decision was the way that Robyn genuinely seemed to want me on her team. That kind of persistence hasn’t happened since 2014, when that crazy lady at Bell Media wanted to hire me the same day as my interview. I think about that job a lot, actually. How different my life would be right now had I taken that position. I don’t regret that decision, though. I’ve done a lot of great things since then, many of which wouldn’t have been possible had I been working for Bell. No regrets, remember?
Anyway, that was the bulk of my day. I kept telling myself that a gym session and shower would happen. However, even after multiple bowls of chips, handfuls of chocolate covered almonds, and a box of popsicles, I never made it. I just lay in my bed all day, watching over five hours’ worth of The Sixties documentaries on CNN. I may smell a bit, but at least I am well-versed in JFK and the Lee Harvey Oswald conspiracy theory. Watching that docuseries really reminded of me how fucked up the US is, though. They have such a sick history, most of which is actively ignored. I think that’s why America can’t move forward. Show some fucking respect for the people you forced into slavery, or wouldn’t let sit on the same bench as you. It’s nauseating to see that not much has changed.
It’s also nauseating how much time I spent on my phone and computer today, looking at – and lusting for – other people. I have a feeling it’s because of the Xanax, but by the time I was ready for bed, my head was pounding. I stayed up late, listening to some music and reading articles. However, throughout the day, I must have looked at over 50 Instagram profiles. The internet is so amazing, yet so harmful at the same time. For some reason, I just can’t seem to pull myself away from it and focus on the one thing that’s actually important to me – transcribing my journals and writing my book. Fucking get it together, bitch!
I read an interview today about a guy who wrote a book called, If You’re So Smart, Why Are You So Unhappy? The author’s words really hit close to home. I related to a lot of the things he touched on in the interview. I actually ended up buying the book. Who knows? Maybe it will really help me. Because, you know, I really need to start analyzing myself more than I already do. I’m looking forward to reading the book.
I’m also looking forward to the moment when I finally drag myself out of bed, duct tape a plastic bag to my foot, and scrub an inch of dead skin off my body. I hear good things come to those who wait.
Goodnight xo
The Edible Arrangement I received from Kate and her crew. Gorgeous! Delicious, too! Kitchen, Casa Z
Bored in bed. Kurt’s Bedroom, Casa Z
“Well, I got it!” - The Comeback