It's October

My dog snores with a weird, thunderous bass, and it's keeping me awake. It's either that or the lack of alcohol, which I have used as a sleep agent for almost every day the past seven years. As my late twenties quickly fade into my thirties, I feel like I need to treat my body better, but I've also have just gotten tired of drinking all the time. I've become rather morose and irritable over the years and I'm like ninety nine percent sure it's from blowing most of my money on booze so I can dull out the days and spend the nights comatose. But I don't really know for sure because I stopped going to therapy years ago.

Stopping drinking, even for just a few day is difficult because I work in an Irish pub. Drinking after work and conversing with my coworkers is about all the social interactions I have these days. And I'm not too sure if my coworkers like me all that much, I think I might scare them with my half serious jokes about suicide. Everything I say or do these days is coated in a thick level of "post-irony" like I'm some mid 2010s hipster fag, and It's honestly ruining my life almost as much as the drinking. Life lately feels like there is a giant piano dangling over me, and a cartoon representation of my inner monologue as a snickering cat is holding the rope. He threatens to drop the piano on my head if I stop ironically giggling to myself for too long. He snickers and threatens me even more when I'm drinking after work. I have been emotionally vacant for awhile now for just about everything.

It's October. Years ago, I would actually feel very strongly about the month of October. I would occasionally experience true happiness during the early autumn month despite the lack of a true fall in the desert. Sometimes, I would feel somber, especially heading into November when the leaves would fall off the gray trees that stood like skeletal hands reaching up from the grave for months on end. But now I don't really feel anything. I want to like October, but I don't really like anything at all anymore.

I think alcohol has killed most of my emotions and my drive to do anything really, up until recently. I've been dieting and exercising lately, and I definitely feel better. I'm down forty pounds and hopefully taking a break from booze will finally put me in the headspace I need to be in. I was inspired to start working out by this really cool girl who offered to take me to yoga classes with her. But the snickering cartoon cat made me ironically think I was too cool for that. Now I'm starting to realize that she was probably into me, and I let my inner monologue cartoon cat cockblock me. Maybe sobriety is the toon town net contraption that can finally wrangle in that snickering cat for me without the piano dropping on my head. I'm afraid that if the piano does fall of my head, the half ironic suicide statements will become promises.

Or maybe I just need to get some pussy.