Friday, out in Adams Morgan, Peter and his girlfriend (SSK) and I are double “dating” with Peter (my Stanford friend). Peter’s GF has already left for her parent’s in California. Why do I always get stuck with the tall white geeky ones? All the college boys home for the holidays as well (damn).
I’m drinking and numb. Peter, who’d had some sort of bad day, is taking pots shots at me. Unemployed, F’d up family situation. F’d up living situation. F’d up boyfriend situation. He’s in a mean spirit and normally I would fight back. But I don’t. It just washes over me.
The next morning Peter calls. “I want to apologize to you for being so mean to you the other night, I’m sorry, you’re dealing with things the best you can”, he says. Apology accepted, I move on.
I’m mainly concerned about drinking and decide I need to stop for a while. It’s not that I have a problem, but alcohol clearly is a mood enhancer. If you’re in a good mood, you’ll be happier. But I’m not right now and it shoves me down a darker passage. A place I don’t wanna me for the moment.