Last Thursday, I had to plead guilty* to misdemeanor battery charges and was sentenced to over $1,300 in fines, three years of probation and twelve weeks of anger management. Get this: I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing.
*Guilty was the easier than the routes no contest or not guilty would have gone down. Trust me.
Last Friday, I danced and drank with the girls at a gay club for the first time in what felt like months.
Last Saturday, I saw some live music in a gritty bar with good people and some decade old acquaintances I could have gone without.
Four days ago, I spent forty minutes in a heated discussion with my boss that left me in frustrated tears; the kind that all the willpower in the world will not contain no matter how hard you try to hold up that tough exterior.
Three days ago, I had the most awkward and awful work day of my life, stemming directly from the previous day.
Two days ago, I went to what I thought was a social charity event, hosted by my company. I knocked on the door of the house were I was to meet a dozen or so co-workers to find out they’d all left without me. I headed over to a venue for 2-300 packed tight with at least double that and choked back my disgust for the schmoozing d-bags of the industry. It didn’t take long for me to sneak out and head home.
So there are some ups… but the last seven days have been shit. I’m tired.
-CJ
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[...] This whole ordeal is one year old today. [...]
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