I switched from day-old crème brûlée to calo­rie and sug­ar-free sparkling sum­mer peach bev­er­age. The week­end usu­al­ly has me drink­ing var­i­ous com­bi­na­tions of liq­uids, includ­ing hon­ey water and cof­fee with half and half. It’s dif­fi­cult to under­stand how nor­mal it becomes to alter­nate between drinks while under the right influ­ences, like only being able to take a swig from a bot­tle of vod­ka dur­ing a hang­over. Sobriety makes the sens­es aware.

This place has become sick and unin­spired. I miss liv­ing at Lees, with the edge of the down­town core, as well as my uni­ver­si­ty, out my 8th floor win­dow. I do have a nicer view here, espe­cial­ly since I’m liv­ing on the 16th floor now, but it’s not on my side of the apart­ment. What I see is most­ly con­struc­tion, aggra­vat­ing colours, and unmatch­ing wood grains. I put on dif­fer­ent movies to absorb their moods.The raw, open-air feel­ing of 12 Monkeys. The emo­tion­al, effu­sive set­tings of the every­day in Bleu. The psy­che­del­ic adven­tures of Army Captain Benjamin Willard through the humid jun­gles of Vietnam in Apocalypse Now. Nothing ever works.

I can’t wait to move. I can’t wait to give my room the per­fect mood. I can’t wait to get a nice, sleek desk. I can’t wait to cre­ate three per­fect lev­els of light­ing. I can’t wait to have a place where I can com­plete­ly relax, sur­round­ed by the com­fort­able feel­ing of a well fur­nished room.