‘But if you’re sick of him, I got you, I was patient zero’
I had good intentions on working today.
But I laid in bed, ate great food from the unimart kombini that opened yesterday in Mills 50, and rescheduled my entire pittsburgh trip.
I had plans to Brightline down to SoBe, stay at the Citizen M, and see my friend DJ at Do Not Sit.
The idea was to cab it over to MIA the next morning.
That was back when I just worried about work all the time. Now that I’m apoplectic about it all, fuck it.
Cut out the SoBe of it all. Changed flight to PDO International, home of the chief child trafficker. Made sure to make it on a Friday night so I don’t inconvenience anyone.
Not that I can get a hotel room in Pittsburgh under $500 on a Friday night when my flight arrives at 1 a.m. But also the car rental place closes at midnight, which is swell.
And the Saturday morning flights are absolute shite.
It was either that or go work from ATL or LGA or JFK for three hours mid-Friday. Which … I was planning to do but god forbid. God. For. Bid.
In any event, I probably spent an extra $300 on a shitty flight out of a shitty airport. But whatever money I save, I can apply toward shipping shit home to not deal with instead of paying to not deal with it up there.
I did allow myself one full day at the beginning and at the end for enjoying my city. The other days, out in the burbs for storage and working.
I figure one full day to really rip the place apart, and five days to work and agonize. Which … are synonyms?
I spent half my drive home from Orlando yesterday voice texting Mom.
It occurred to me for the millionth time that having her to talk to, at least gave me the strength to go back and deal with Brad and Brad Jr.
I don’t really have that anymore.
So I either have to maintain my grey rock that I show him/them …
Or else I have to find a way to not have to bottle up my feelings to the point of wanting to fling myself off my fifth-floor balcony 17 times a day.
It’s 5 p.m., where is your AI slop assignment for the night?
To be called not productive, man. I spent last Sunday night editing a 30 page dossier that was well researched and for someone I love dearly.
Wanting to get up and away from my cats and my football to do something for someone who will just complain on my review that I don’t work on his newsletter … not as motivating as y’all want to think it is.