Wednesday, March 23, 2005

If I'm self-medicating, do I still need a prescription?

Sunday, March 6, 2005
Steve's house

What a fucking let-down.

Steph was exactly right about me. I need parameters. I need information. I need to know when she's going to call, and what her decision is going to be. In short, I need to know everything that she is unable to tell me.

The only thing worse than not having Stephanie anymore is not knowing whether I'm going to be with her or not. If I'm going to get dumped, I want to know right away, so the healing can begin. But instead, I'm in a sort of relationship limbo. It's like having a noose tied around my neck, and then watching as the executioners argue about whether to kick the chair out from under me.

Back in the day, my coping mechanism was simple: Fuck. Happy? Fuck. Sad? Fuck. Depressed? Hapless? Hopeless? Neutral? Fuck.

Of course, now I can't do that. Sure, physically I could, but I'm still with Steph, at least technically, so seeking out any kind of female companionship is out of the question. But now that I can't go out and hook up with some big-chested, long-haired hottie, I need to find some other way to soothe my anxiety.

It's almost instinctive. Open cupboard. Put water glass on counter. Open fridge. Unscrew top from Absolut bottle. Fill glass 1/3 of the way. Replace Absolut bottle in fridge. Grab two-liter Sprite bottle (I don't have any tonic water). Fill glass the rest of the way. Down glass contents quickly. Repeat.

I sit on the couch and watch the first season of "The Brady Bunch" on DVD. That show was a hell of a lot harder to stomach before Marsha grew tits.

The Absolut bottle is almost empty. I lean my head back against the couch, the heavy glass hanging loosely in my hand, and close my eyes. It's 9:00pm.

I wake up the next morning at 6:00, in the exact same position.

**********

Monday, March 7
Steve's office

I'm not hung over, but I'm in a very bad mood today. I really just want to be left alone. Around here, that is fucking impossible.

"Bonnie, I'm gonna be very busy today. If it's not urgent, get rid of them."

"OK, Steve. Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Is everything ok? You look upset."

"Everything's fine."

We both know it's bullshit.

1:30pm

"Steve?"

"Yes, Bonnie."

"I have a gentleman named Albert on the phone. He says he needs to speak to you, and no one else."

Me and no one else? Must be an irate customer. That is ALL I fucking need today.

"Policyholder?"

"Yeah. Steve, I tried to help him, several times, but he won't even give me information. He says he has to speak to the guy in charge."

"OK, put him through."

"Are you sure? I told him you were on a conference call. I could take his number for you?"

"It's ok, send him back."

My phone rings. "This is Steve."

"NOW LISTEN TO ME!" an apoplectic voice screams.

Too bad the vodka wore off.