Woke up, started coffee, popped xanax, smoked pot, tried to conjure up self-pity to be spending xmas alone and fucked up, but I was too fucked up.Certainly a trough in my travails, but they go up and down.
The strangely positive aspect of all this shit-wallop is that the litany of things I have to accomplish to get to the top of the Maslow mountain is so long that the ones I was previously occupied with aren't on the agenda anymore. Go out and get an interview? Oh, but you're too fat to fit into any of your clothes, fattty! Where are you going to live next mount without income? You're spending all you dough on drugs! What the fuck is wrong with you?
Ah, 'tis the season.