2016 Inauguration Eve

 2016 Inauguration Eve: we were let out of work early b/c no one had any energy to think about story ideas. I came home and immediately fell asleep.I wanted to sleep for the next 4 years but I ended up waking at around 8pm. I knew I needed to workout before the gym closed. I needed to exhaust myself into slumber. Otherwise, I would be up all night. So I crammed some greasy fast food in my mouth and proceeded to have the worst workout of my life. Yes, it was self-destructive of me to sabotage my workout by eating fast food but...fuck it. I was living the last scenes of SIDEWAYS where Paul Giamatti is chugging rare wine out of a big Gulp cup. My entire mood was 'fuck it.' Weighed down by depression and grease I trudged through a few hours at the gym in the hopes that I would be so tired that I could pass out for a few hours. 

On the gym tv screens, white moderates on CNN were trying to rationalize doom: maybe Trump wouldn't be that bad. He would 'grow into the presidency.' I laughed so hard that I coughed up a french fry...and then I re-ate the greasy regurgitated string. Grow into the presidency? A 70-yr-old rapist and con artist who cheated cancer kids out of money, who ripped off veterans with Trump University, who has been sued thousands of times, who is a notorious pathological liar was going to be given an unGodly amount of power...and THEN he was going to grow up?!? That was the logic of white moderates: give the devil what he wants and maybe he'll become an angel. FUCK IT. 

I went home and got maybe 2 or 3 hrs of sleep. I woke up the day of Inauguration...still in the 'fuck it' phase. I went to the bakery for morning cupcakes. Not muffins. Cupcakes!! For some reason I wanted to obliterate myself with cupcakes and -for some divine reason- this bakery didn't make cupcakes. I was like 'what do you mean you don't make cupcakes. I'm trying to kill myself with cupcakes.' The baker said I could buy an entire cake and eat it. I considered it b/c 'fuck it.' But then I thought that might be a bit too much, even for me. Solo cake eating is a commitment. It's death by one flavor and I wanted to spread my poison across a palette of different sweets. I walked out with 2 brick-hard, flat, ugly chocolate cookies and ate them in the streets of WeHo. I ate up all the ugliness and hardness. I brushed the sticky crumbs off my shirt and wondered if I should throw up? That might kill a few hours. I made a list of things I could do that day.

Possible 2016 Inauguration plans: 

-throw up

-nap

I went back home and laid in bed staring at the ceiling. A friend called. She said I should take my mind off the Inauguration and go somewhere where there's no tv. How about a Korean sauna? I had never been to a Korean sauna. In fact, I had never been to a sauna or spa in my life. Sure, why not? Fuck it. I drove to K-town and selected one spa at random. The morning crowd was old Korean women. I selected an expensive massage and had an old man beat the shit out of me for an hour, scrub the grease off my skin, and dump scalding hot buckets of water on my private parts. Yes...this is perfect vibe for this day. I wandered up to the cafeteria level but the food area was still closed. Korean soap operas were on the tv screen and old women slept next to giant wooden logs in the lobby. I moseyed over to the different hot rooms. There was scalding hot clay oven room, the scorching salt room, a tepid room covered in gold and finally an Arctic freezer room. I hopped between the different realms of hell. No one interrupted me. I did this for maybe an hour...maybe longer. I lost track of time. 

The cafeteria opened. I ate rice cakes and kimchi from a paper plate while watching Korean soap operas. I tried to guess what people were crying about. I started to feel better. I came home and slept. The next day I was ready to get back into the fight...in whatever capacity I could. I gave myself 48 hours to lick my wounds and feel sorry for myself. Now it was time to get back into the fray.