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Knocked up, drinking, and crying

Posted on September 21, 2007 
Filed Under Daily, Failures

Wednesday, I woke up with a violent hangover no thanks to several bottles of warm light beer I was double fisting the night before with a couple of friends. It doesn’t help that I am not getting as much sleep as I’d want to have these past few weeks either. I don’t know what’s up with that, but apparently, after my psychiatrist cut off my Xanax prescription, I have been unwillingly shoved into a frustrating battle with mild insomnia. In these bouts, I usually crash as soon as I get home from work, wake up at around 12am for some Conan O’ Brien, fall back asleep at around 5am and wake up for work at around 8 or 9am.

Wednesday was different in the sense that I was out of bed by 6am, in the shower trying to fight a killer headache and a major hangover.

Maybe it’s because I knew I had to pull it together because come Saturday, I will be celebrating my 3rd month together with the girlfriend and I just want to make the moment as special as possible and not screw it up and use my hangover as an excuse (like I’m inclined to do whenever I’m cornered and confronted about why I couldn’t get an erection).

But guess what, because I have a small drinking problem and because I have a total of seven real friends whom I try hard to keep and hence can’t say no to them when they ask me out to drink, I ended up drinking again on Wednesday night, headache, hangover and all.

All told, I stayed in the bar for six hours with my friends Rey, Romark, Rico and Sasha. It was wonderful, the beer, the meat–basically just a couple of guys, sitting around, getting drunk and talking about how much our jobs and lives in general suck.

I got home drunk of course, but surprisingly, I was feeling pretty good despite getting by with only four hours of sleep the night before and with my killer hangover.

I honestly didn’t want anything more than to crash and just sleep that night, but because my stupid insomnia reared its ugly head again, I decided to watch this movie my friend downloaded for me: Knocked up with Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl.

Big motherfucking mistake.

This was when the wheels came off. I mean don’t get me wrong, the movie was awesome what with Judd Apatow directing, but it’s not like I haven’t seen a movie where some homely, fat guy hooks up with a super hot chick and makes jokes about sticking his penis in inanimate objects and generally being an obscene loser before.

But there’s something in the movie that got me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I haven’t looked at seemingly dysfunctional relationships this way before, the fact that I can relate to Seth Rogen’s character a lot or simply the fact that I was drunk out of my mind (I really was, I actually collapsed on a patch of Bermuda grass on my way home. Long story) but I felt like fucking crying.

Thankfully, thanks to my excessive smoking, inordinate drinking habits and as part of an agreement with Jesus after a bet I lost with him back in 1988 where I called him a card cheat in pusoy and where he threw me down the Pasig river afterwards, my tear ducts have apparently dried up and I can only cry during sexual intercourse or whenever I hang around the kids section of a department store. Had this not been the case, I would’ve surely turned our living room into a river of tears. Actually, a river of tears, beer and vomit, but I digress.

As the movie ended, I sat there motionless, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth. After the credits rolled and the cast’s baby picture were being shown, I was still fending off tears.

Emotions. It was everywhere. The couch. The TV. The Ceiling. The Pillows. Emotions fucking everywhere.

God, I so want to masturbate right now.

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