Treasure [h.s]

| 06 - Bad Fucking Energy |

Well, I'm officially the world's biggest fucking loser.

I somehow ended up back in the wicked club that made me have a week-long breakdown the first time I left it. I spent the whole week hating myself and completely engulfing myself in work to forget about the horrible time I had.

Okay, so it wasn't horrible. It was fun. It was sexy and alluring, and that's why it should be terrible. I'm not supposed to like those things. I like my job, my simple home, my one friend, and I like not feeling guilty for enjoying the club as much as I do.

Last night was even better, too. I don't know how long we sat on that couch, sharing a joint and kissing each other like it was part of the drug, but by the time the lights came on and people scrambled out of the facility, the two of us were leaning on each other and stumbling into a cab.

And to remind me of just how idiotic it was to step foot back in Treasure Chest, I woke up this morning with a headache that was practically fucking me with how hard my head was pounding.

I have to work today, and I've already spent an extra twenty minutes laying here, trying to will away the lump in my throat. Thank god it's Friday so I can lay low. I really don't want to hear Jillian's bitching today. She's been extra petty this week and I already know she's going to send me out for more meaningless errands.

My hands slowly peel the covers off my body and my blurry eyes wince at the sunlight pouring into the bedroom. I roll over and plant my feet on the floor before sitting up like a vampire in a coffin.

My eyes pinch shut as I groan, pushing myself up to stand. My hand reaches out for my nightstand, patting around it blindly to find the water bottle I keep there. It's probably weeks old and tastes like stale cardboard, but my throat is as dry as the Sahara right now.

I unscrew the cap and bring it to my lips, rolling my head back to allow some of the liquid in. I let it drip out of the side of my mouth as I chugged the water down. The plastic bottle crinkles, the sound making me wince in pain from the noise it blasted straight into my brain.

I toss the bottle in front of me and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I open one of my eyes enough so I can see where to walk and make my way to my bathroom to get ready.

I turn the shower on and walk back to the counter, my hands resting on the edge while my head drops forward. I don't know how I'm going to make it through today, but that's just more motivation to stop fucking up.

I don't know how I keep ending up back there. It's ended catastrophically both times, yet I can't stop smiling when I think about it. What is wrong with me?

I've spent all this time trying to perfect my life just for it to be smacked away in two nights. My priorities are slipping through my fingers and I've seen how this ends. I need to stop. Last night was enough, no more going out and partying like I can afford to do stupid shit like that.