georgeliquor

Tonight I went joyriding with my drunk chef in the snow, passed him good bourbon when he did it, then went and drank with another chef and fucked around with a half dozen industry people. We were supposed to go sledding, but instead we just drank whiskey and beer in a garage.

I love my life, I feel like I live the life of a fucking rock star. Life is fucking good as shit and I have a blast.

..Yet, when I go home, and I'm contemplating things, laying in bed..I feel depressed. I can't shake the feeling of apathy. In the mornings, no matter how hung over, sleep deprived, well rested or anything, I just don't want to get out of bed.

It will pass, so it goes.