I’m tired.

I’m also stoned.

Today was yet another idiotic day at work. As we know, Big Bird recently took it upon herself to alter the job description of my “evolving role” and give me more responsibilities. This comes after six months of me working for her. I wonder what Human Resources would think about that? Oh, wait. We don’t have a fucking HR department. It’s not like any of the new responsibilities are that daunting, but they’re definitely annoying. At the same time, it also makes me wonder why we weren’t doing this months ago.

The biggest problem with all of these changes is that Big Bird has added about ten new responsibilities, and she wants them all to start at the same time. Each day, Big Bird starts explaining additional new projects, one after the other, before one is even understood. You don’t know where one tangent ends, and another begins. This is why we can’t ever finish a job properly.

Did you know we are still working on that fucking digital birthday card? It’s taken Big Bird three weeks to think about a single line of text to put on the email graphic. Apparently, this is normal. Emma says that she has stuff on her computer from two years ago that was never finished, because, “Robyn is still thinking about it.” Oy. Big Bird is flying the coop tomorrow, and won’t be in the office. Thank God.

After work, I went to the gym and performed my standard routine. There’s something about writing that every day which seems so mundane, but I kind of love my workout. I know that it’s probably not the most effective for my body or efficient for my time, but it works for me. I’ve also done the same routine so many times that I can time it pretty accurately. Weights, crunches, abs, and push-ups for about 45 minutes, followed by an hour-long run before I hit the sauna, shower, and go home. It is what it is.

As I was leaving the gym, I saw Leonardo arriving in the locker room. He caught me off guard when he said hello, as I had just gotten out of the shower. If that’s the time Leonardo gets to the gym each night, I think I might run into him tomorrow after work. We’ll see.

While pon de treadmill this evening, I decided that I wanted to pick up more weed on my way home. Not the best decision, to be honest. Looking back on it, I get nervous. I don’t want to fall into old habits again. That didn’t stop me from buying candy on my way home, though. Fuck.

Back at the Witch Cave, I blazed and spent the rest of my evening eating sour keys and making Instagram videos. You know what? I fucking loved it. I smoked again, masturbated, smoked some more, and have now turned off the lights for bed.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes me special. When I say that, I mean “special” in the sense of, “What qualities do I possess that separate me from the crowd when I am a small fish in an ocean?” Jessica and I were texting tonight, and she brought up the concept of my “brand.” Essentially, how would I market myself if I were going to write stories to be published? Truth be told, I don’t know what makes me special in a business sense. Also, using the word “brand” to describe human qualities is somewhat nauseating.

What are my special qualities? What sets me apart from everyone else who is trying to distinguish themselves? Is it the sort of thing that you sit down and think about, or do those qualities reveal themselves organically? Perhaps it’s mostly the latter, but with the idea that you always maintain an open mind so that, when those qualities eventually come to light, you will notice them and harness their power. Okay. That’s enough. This is getting weird.

By the way, tonight’s weed was way better than Lamb’s Breath. I opted for an indica cannabis, and it was a much different experience than last week’s sativa. That was very head-heavy stuff. Instead, I found myself laughing, relaxed, and much calmer tonight. Still, I did spend some time in my head again. What I like about weed, and I suppose most drugs, is that it makes you see things and think about them from a different point of view – for better, or for worse. Tonight’s high was fine.

To me, heaven is being stoned while eating sour candy and listening to Mariah Carey through a good set of headphones. Okay, fine. My stringy Apple earbuds may not have made the cut tonight. Still, they got the job done.

Tonight’s song? “Get Your Number” by Mariah Carey.

Goodnight xo