Menudo and depression is what’s for breakfast.
Not Menudo the band. That would actually be more depressing. Maybe.
I posted yesterday that I’m happy I’m on a new schedule that I’m not waking up at dawn anymore.
Guess who woke up way before dawn with all those beautiful thoughts of “life is shit you should go kill yourself.”
This is what happened.
I tried being productive. I really tried. It’s sort of going better….
I got hungry.
And I didn’t finish anything.
So I went out for food.
And once I’m out. Why not. Beer.
Beer and I still will be productive.
I need a Macbook.
And maybe pretending to be productive would be better.
Went to Norte because of Tap Tuesday.
Pretended to be productive.
I wasn’t again.
It was close to 7:30 pm and I got bored. The TV had random skateboarding and other shit like it usually does. I asked the bartender if I could change the channel to Jeopardy for the next half hour.
There was literally NO ONE watching TV.
And it was just for thirty minutes.
And she told me no.
Getting Jeopardy rejected sent me down a depressive spiral.
Fuck it. Chugged my beer.
Watched Jeopardy at home.
And I did well on Jeopardy.
Final Jeopardy was extremely easy. And only one person got it.
The Final Jeopardy answer was Pokémon.
That was followed by the last episode of Stranger Things 2.
Apparently, I was on the last episode.
And hey hey! Hi Hi! Commented that Barbara was addressed.
They gave her a 10-second funeral. The character was never mentioned again. Nancy didn’t give a fuck. No one gave a fuck. It was more like.. “oh yeah… a girl died and we never mentioned it again… let’s throw this funeral scene real quick.”
Maybe she will have a role next season.
And yah… Spoilers by the way…
Eleven is apparently as strong as Dark Phoenix or some shit.
They took it to another level of X-Men.
She’s opening and closing gates to another world. And not small gates. Gigantic gates of hell that she can close with her mind.
Dark Phoenix Eleven.
It was followed by the stupid comedy of Brian Regan. He is… well.. he isn’t very good. It’s dumb comedy. All he does is dumb voices. And it’s okay for what he does. But it’s not great comedy.
I rinsed my brain with Chapelle’s comedy after that. But fell asleep early on it.
Before 10:30 pm.
And you know what that means.
I woke up at 3:53 am and I couldn’t back to bed because of depressive thoughts.
You know who else was awake at that hour? The President of the United States tweeting dumb shit.
Yes. Before dawn, there was already news and political drama.
More sexual assault allegations and people getting fired.
And the president… tweeting anti-Muslim shit.
To see it in real time is incredible. It’s such a mess.
Such a depressive fucking mess.
It inspires to continue doing absolutely fucking nothing.
I fell back asleep after reading hundreds of comments at around dawn.
Woke up again… and shit.
It’s was noon already.
I had a text from the roommate that he was stopping by to grab some shirts. He told me he was at a menudo place and he was going to bring me some.
He brought me a small.
I just had less than half and it was a lot of cow stomach.
I rarely eat menudo. I usually do it when in Central Mexico and if really hungover.
This is a good menudo. The tortillas are beyond excellent.
New cover story. New cover image.
The magazine this time only has a few pictures that I took of that bridge and the surrounding area.
And pictures of the brewery place I went that was in Carlsbad.
Because I don’t send anything.
Next week’s only has a short text and will have some pictures.
But I need to turn in more text.
Tomorrow I have to cross the border to get more images for the magazine.
That’s about it.
Saturday. I have a tour (not thoroughly confirmed).
Today. I should work on text.
Same thing on Friday.
And every other day.
Because I get depressed when I don’t produce.
You’ve seen it before.
When I have money in my bank account is tough to produce because I have the option to be lazy and guess what option I take?
That’s why I don’t like freelancing.
And I want a real job.
So I’m forced to work.
But instead, I have the option to Tijuana.
Eat and drink for cheap. Forget your troubles. Let Tijuana absorb you and spit you out drunk. Time is not a factor.
Facebook memories show me that I did this four years ago…
I’ve been trying to re-learn it.
It’s so much. I don’t remember being it this much…
In completely other news…
I’ve talked to my ex for the first time in a while.
She wasn’t responding on Whatsapp… the phone that I bought her doesn’t charge anymore.
I bought her a shitty phone.
She’s doing great.
Told me that won the lottery workwise.
She didn’t tell me what her job was.
But it sounds like she landed something she really likes.
… and well.
That’s the reason she left.
So I’m really happy for her.
She got what she wanted.
You know… except doing a long distance relationship like she had imagined.
And yes. I think about her and miss her every day.
Shit is weird.
In a way, I’m feeling more like myself.
My usual depressive self.
After all the shittiness… comes the productive phase and comes the happiness.
So I’m not concerned.
I’ll be fine.
I already want it to be next year.