I’m including two entries for Day Six because it was such an epic day.
Monday night was another karaoke night with Linda, and it marked the longest consecutive string binge-drinking nights in my life. Even my college days couldn’t compare. I was in rough form, the acid burning through my esophagus, compounding the snare drum headache that reverberated throughout my skull. My body couldn’t have possibly survived this. But here I was. Standing uprig–oh, nevermind, my knee just gave out.
Linda and I had left the karaoke bar early the evening before, making our way to a burrito stand for a late-night snack. I was in my best threads and feeling dapper despite my extreme fatigue, many thanks to my ingenuous sink-showering technique earlier that evening, courtesy of my office bathroom. I’d found a way to cleanse all of the essential parts without making a mess. It required a bit of acrobatics, but that only made the deed that much more pleasing an accomplishment. Anyway, I was looking all right for a man who’s insides were rapidly deteriorating.
When I got the bill for the burrito, it read $16.
I don’t even have the heart to discuss this further. Having implemented my daily meal expense Excel spreadsheet since Day One, it hurt knowing that a less-than-necessary meal could skew my average so. I had set out to spend under $20 a day. That couldn’t be achieved by such frivolous meal behavior. Linda didn’t even end up eating. This was 100% my doing.
By the time I had paid my bill, I was nearly falling asleep. My eyelids hung like curtains over my pupils, shading the light and threatening my consciousness with sweet, sweet darkness. Linda took me outside, and I accompanied her to her rental car. Linda refused to buy a new car. She said she didn’t want to be tied down by purchasing any car or home for fear it would tie her to the area long term. It was an extremely poor financial decision, but one that made absolutely clear that she was not your average girl. Well, average woman. Linda was 32.
We debated for a while the merits of not paying exorbitant rental car fees in favor of, I don’t know, buying a car. But soon Linda’s attention turned on me. It was at the bar when she asked me straight.
“So, where are you living right now?”
I guess my vague answer about house-sitting hadn’t been enough for her. I imagine she thought I might be harboring some more sinful secret; perhaps I was estranged from my wife or sleeping with a patron of the arts sugar momma or seeking asylum from an enemy sect of Djibouti drug-running sodomites hell-bent on retribution for my role in the massacre of their underlord’s chief general and the undermining of their secret campaign in the capital’s textile factories to implant underpants cameras for widespread use in their elderly population. Whatever her thoughts, she never guessed I was living out of my office. But I took a deep breath and told her everything.
“You’re living out of your office?” she said, exasperated. “I think that’s awesome. I love it.”
The idea actually seemed to turn her on. I was incredulous. I was certain this would be the end of Linda. Instead, it seemed to only stoke her the flame. By the end of the night, she was insistent that I come home with her.
But I turned her down. On principle. The night had gone well, but not so well that, had she believed I was sleeping in my own bed, she’d have still invited me. I could tell she wasn’t ready for that. And I knew that she was only inviting me over to spare me from sleeping at my work. I had to decline.
When I returned back to the office, I immediately crawled behind my desk and passed out on the floor. I didn’t even change into more comfortable clothes. I had turned down a sleeping with a pretty lady for this. I wasn’t sure if I was stupid or committed.
Before I knew it I was asleep. It was the first time I’d slept in my office overnight.
– TOH
