I had a cozy night in and this is what happened.

PART 1

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As a general rule, when someone asks you how you’re doing, they are not expecting a detailed or especially honest answer. I live by this rule. The furthest I will go when asked this specific question—even during mornings or evenings when I look bedraggled and am radiating a specific sense of crisis—is to say “Oh, you know” instead of describing any specific emotion or the source of my existential torment. I do this for most people who inquire into my state of affairs, but I also do it for myself. No one needs to hear that I am struggling to keep up my writing pace on This Is A Newsletter! while working overtime/weekends almost every other week since October in my stupid advertising job. Or, at least that’s what I tell myself. While I think I’m correct to not dive into the extraneous details regarding my writerly frustrations to a barista or a bartender, people are not always doing well, and it can help to admit as much. So I decided to pause the urbane bustle that defines my life and to have a night-in to rot, even if it isn’t particularly relaxing.

My girlfriend was out with her friends, so I did everything to make sure I was set up to have the perfect night in: I lit up some candles, grabbed a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, cracked open a fresh lime High Noon tequila soda, and fired up “Theo Von Funny Moments | Funniest Clips Joe Rogan Podcast” followed by Master and Commander. After that, I laid down in my bed and queued up a playlist filled with Swans, Thaiboy Digital, Aphex Twin, Orthodox chants, whispering, screaming, and Lana del Ray. Then, I stripped off all of my clothes, started moving in repetitive and extreme ways that resembled dancing, crawled around on all fours, and removed clothes from drawers with my mouth. I screamed without screaming, and tried to fit inside cabinets or various other small spaces. I stared intently at the mirror until my vision blurred and my face began to distort.

When my phone dipped to around 10%, I placed it on my wireless charger and began to unwind. I blew the candle out and even moisturized my hands. But I couldn’t sleep because all my uninhibited thumping sent a goblin-mode adrenaline rush that ran through me like a current. So I went to scroll my phone, but I realized my hands had lotion all over them. So I just laid there, thinking about a time when my hands weren’t so slippery and I could touch whatever I wanted.

All I wanted was my hands to be moisturized and now I’m absolutely fucked. Can’t even sip water from my water bottle. I have to try to use my wrists to hold it. This is a disaster! I can’t scroll my phone and I smell like a creamsicle.

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