Blast From the Past

Now Playing: Blast From the Past (1999, Dir. Hugh Wilson)

I was in the waiting room of my sober living’s apartment complex just now and it hit me once more how I never imagined my life would be like this.

Not that my life prior this was better, I was drinking two bottles of red wine a night and never thought I’d stop.

But it’s strange to me, to be here in South Florida, sober living, inhaling vapes like they’re going out of style. Horrible habit.

I’ve been watching a block of comfort movies from when I was an adolescent. Josie and the Pussycats. A Very Brady Sequel. Now, Blast From the Past.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a drink. I looked up NA wines for when I get back home. I figure tomorrow morning for breakfast I’ll make one of my egg sandwiches and take a walk around my usual beat. The smoke shop down the street offered to stock my favorite kind of American Spirits so hopefully they’ll get in soon.

My favorite Hollywood biographer has a new book on Clint Eastwood out, which I want, in addition to the Simone de Beauvoir novel I’ve been eyeing.

Usually, by now, I’d be three sheets to the wind. It’s nice to be coherent.

I turned the air conditioner to super low so I can sleep like a polar bear tonight. I miss my mom terribly. I guess that’s why I’m watching these movies and missing my childhood and adolescence.

I wish I could turn back time to a Saturday morning from when I was seven and wake up to my dad’s blueberry pancakes and a trip to the local video store.

What’s tomorrow going to be like?