The downside to working
the night shift:
The only people awake when you get off
are drunks, insomniacs, vampires,
Sleep would come
If I bothered to lie down for a short second,
but being left alone for the weekend,
and wound up from unsatisfying work
leaves me awakened and
buzzed on exhaustion.
partake in Alone Time Behavior.
Bad teen comedies are my guilty pleasure,
and I wonder inanely if your newly done
self pedicure looks as good as the girl’s on
Before you know it,
it’s 4 AM,
and you’ve got less than three hours before you
have to pretend
you’re a Church Person.
Just enough time to
There was an episode of Sex and the City where Carrie was moving in with her boyfriend Aidan and came to realize there was what she called SSB (Secret Single Behavior) she wasn’t able to partake in while having a live-in bf. I understood exactly what Carrie was referring to.
My Rockstar is out of town this weekend. While I am saddened that I haven’t his warm body to ravage in the night and his Michaelangelo angel face to wake up to, I must admit that my sadness is relatively short-lived.
Some girls rejoice at the thought of their boyfriends being out of town for the weekend. These girls generally have oodles of girlfriends they party with, or oodles of booty call numbers they dial before their poor boyfriends are even cruising out of the driveway. I confess my motives are not of this ilk, and probably not as juicy to read about.
My evening of aloneness plans are shameful, it’s true. When my rockstar goes away, I make a trip to the closest junk food aisle or Burger King, and spend at least $20. I then ensure that I have rented the most ridiculous of scary movies with which to terrify myself in the dark, and then make my way home. These are the nights when my ADHD comes out to play in earnest. While a truly horrific movie can keep my interest very nicely, I do believe the last drama I rented when my rockstar was away took me a good 7 hours to finish. It was not bad in the least, no, it was just that I had makeup to experiment with and hair dye to administer to my tresses and blog posts to write and the such. I also recall last time that I watched The Devil Inside, which resulted in me texting my coworker at 2 AM telling her the demons were surely coming to possess me and that she needed to save me. Fuckin’ devils.
I normally watch said movies in my underwear and a tshirt, because of course those are the most comfortable things one can wear when alternately stuffing one’s face with food that has no food value and nervously pulling the covers over one’s head to hide from demon possession. It would seem a clever idea to invite a friend or two over who might be able to assist in giving the demons a choice in bodies to possess, but then I would have to put pants on, and that just doesn’t sound like a very good time.