When I suggested that we stay inside and smoke and fuck all weekend I was kind of kidding. But that’s pretty much what we did. On Friday night I got tacos and tequila and went to Brady’s. I literally took off all my clothes and got in bed with a plate of tacos. I can’t believe that’s what my life has become. How revolting.
When we woke up on Saturday morning Brady wanted to go for a run. I pretended I didn’t have any shoes to run in (but I did from our last run) and used that as an excuse not to go.
“They’re right here,” Brady said and reached under the bed to pick one of my Roshes up. I could tell by his voice that he never believed my excuse.
“UGHHHHH,” I groaned so loudly that Chris probably thought I was being tortured. “This is so fucking stupid. It’s too cold to be running. We are going to catch pneumonia and die.”
Brady looked at me, unamused. “You don’t have to go.”
I felt like a bitch so I put on my brightest smile. “Just kidding! Let me just get ready.”
So even though it was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do, I rolled out of bed and got dressed in Lululemon Wunder Under pants, a Nike half zip, my Patagonia, crew socks and a hat.
I should have stayed home. I wasn’t motivated to run and didn’t even try to keep up with Brady once I got tired. Plus I was dressed in so many layers with the hat and stuff on that after a while I got hot.
“I’m hot,” I whined, slowing down until I was walking. I ripped the stupid hat off and unzipped my jacket.
“Come on, we are almost finished.” Brady slowed down and tried to kind of push me to keep going.
“Ughhhhhhhhhhh,” I whined super dramatically. I don’t see how people actually enjoy running. “Just leave me here. I’ll find my way home.”
Brady stopped running and walked with me the rest of the way. I know I’m such a brat, but I honestly think he was secretly a little happy about my tantrum because he didn’t have to pretend to want to run.
When we got home, I called the shower first and took a quick, forty five minute shower then started on breakfast while Brady showered. After we ate waffles we got back in bed. We fooled around (I honestly think I could survive on foreplay alone, anyone else?), napped then watched tv. Later on in the evening, Carly and one of Chris’s friends came over and we all hung out in the basement. While we were all talking, I found out that Carly and Chris have not met each other’s parents. I was kind of surprised because they’re both from around here so it would be so easy for everyone to meet. I made a mental note to ask Carly about it when we are alone.
We smoked and I actually took more than like one or two hits from the bong. And at first I thought it was too much and that I had overdosed and was going to die. I sat there on the verge of tears because I thought these were the last moments of my life. Then the feeling passed and I felt fine. We all sat there for a long time then me and Brady went outside to sit on the patio. It was pretty nice out (high 30s in January feels like summer) and we brought out cheddar popcorn, marshmallows, craisins, and flour tortillas to snack on. Super gross.
We started talking about Hunter and how Brady still hasn’t heard from him.
“I haven’t talked to my brother in almost three months. It’s really fucked up,” Brady said and I felt so awful. I really wished there was something I could do.
“I’m sorry. We should go to San Francisco and find him!” I said.
Brady kind of laughed, but I was being serious. “No. He is completely capable of using the phone to contact me.”
“But what if he’s hurt or something? That Dom girl seems a bit off. What if she killed him?” There. I said it.
“Reese,” he said, pulling me on his lap. “I’m sure it’s fine. He’s probably just enjoying life as a newlywed.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought that maybe Hunter was simply in wedded bliss. He is probably totally fine and trying to impregnate his little troll of a wife. If I wasn’t so high I would’ve been kind of embarrassed about bringing up such a ridiculous scenario. Oh well. “Are you going to stop talking to your family after we get married too?”
“I wish I could stop talking to my parents now. Honestly, fuck them.”
“Brady!” I exclaimed, taken aback. “That’s awful.”
“They aren’t as nice as you think,” he said and I don’t even think they’re nice. “I would be fine with never speaking to them again.”
“They are your parents,” I said, putting my hands on either side of his face.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling up at me. “They do suck though.”
Then he started talking about how supportive my parents are and how they’ll obviously love me unconditionally. I was like, “Won’t your parents love you unconditionally too?”
And he said, “No.”
Which is really sad. I wasn’t sure how to make him feel better except saying that I would. Naturally we spent the next three hours talking about how much we love each other. Well, I think it was closer to ten or fifteen minutes, but still. It felt like a long time.
We went inside and took an entire jar of peanut butter in the bed with us. We passed spoonfuls back and forth while discussing how peanut butter is made.
I said, “Don’t they just melt a bunch of peanuts and then add butter and stuff?”
Brady started laughing uncontrollably so I did too. Now that I think about it, it did sound really dumb, but I sure thought it made sense at the time.
“I don’t think peanuts will just melt,” Brady said.
“Ohhhh.” I probably looked and sounded like such a stoner.
After we finished the entire jar of crunchy peanut butter we fell asleep. I didn’t get out of bed at all on Sunday. I think I had a hangover from all the food we ate. Honestly, I don’t mind smoking, but I can’t deal with the munchies it gives me. It’s disgusting and it’s unacceptable.
On Monday Andrew was in Chicago. We had conference calls all morning then went to lunch to discuss my “progress.” Ugh. I just knew he was going to tell me I sucked and needed to try harder or I would be fired. So we went to this deli and got sandwiches and Andrew asked how my weekend was. I gave him a really, really vague overview of my weekend (I went for a run and I ate a lot) and he asked what I like to do for fun. I hate that question. I made up some bullshit about how I like to work out (lolllllllll) and cook (hahaha).
Then Andrew was like, “What do you think you’re good at?”
This caught me off guard. “Um, like at work or in life?”
“Both. Either one.”
“I think I manage my time well,” I said after a moment.
“Yeah,” Andrew said, nodding. “I agree. Something I’ve noticed about you is that you always seem to use your time effectively. You hit the ground running when you come in and you’re all about your business. I admire that.”
I smiled and nodded. I definitely have him fooled.
“And you’re very assertive. I think that’s what this region was missing. I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about things around here with you in charge. You aren’t hesitant about making decisions that will be best for the business.”
It was really weird, but Andrew was actually telling me that I am doing a good job and he is impressed and stuff. I wasn’t expecting that, but it definitely put me in a good mood for the rest of the day. And it actually made me want to work harder to show Andrew that he has a reason to be impressed with me.
He asked what I think I need to work on and without hesitating I said, “Communicating.”
Andrew’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
I explained to him how I sometimes have trouble expressing myself and how I bottle things up. He seemed really really surprised so maybe I’m not like that at work. Either way, he told me not to ever feel like I can’t discuss anything with him.
And finally Andrew asked what he could do to help me succeed in my position. I knew it was my time to suck up and kiss ass (which is completely necessary sometimes) so I said something along the lines of, “I think you’re great. You’re inspirational and I love that you push me and challenge me. I can tell you are going to be a great mentor.”
“Wow, thanks Reese!” Andrew beamed. “But seriously, don’t be afraid to come to me with any concerns. I’m here to help you, not scare you.”
After work I stopped by Kendra’s. When I got there I immediately noticed a pair of (ugly) men’s boots on her welcome mat and asked if John was there. She looked down at the boots and said no without offering an explanation or anything.
“Seriously, I don’t care if he is. Or if you’re talking to slash seeing him. I’m in no position to judge you even though I think he’s a useless prick,” I said.
“I’m so glad I have your permission to talk to him,” she said rolling her eyes.
So obviously, John is still a touchy subject.
Anyway, I can’t stop thinking about what Brady said about his parents. I don’t know if he was just being dramatic because he was under the influence, but it’s just so sad. I can’t imagine feeling like I would be okay never speaking to my parents again. I just feel really bad for him and I hope he gets to talk to Hunter soon because I can tell that’s really bothering him. And I mean, if he doesn’t talk to his parents and Hunter is AWOL, who else does he really have?