Shoot The Shit

For the last couple of weeks - probably even longer - I've been feeling this kind of restlessness that, I guess, has come from familiarity and routine. It's not anything bad but it has been gradually gnawing at me to the point that now it seems there isn't anything else but it.

As a result, I feel this boredom and staleness with things that I once used to feel quite excited about: work, hobbies, even writing. Is this the doldrums? Sometimes, I feel this urge just to yell. But since I don't do screaming (I laughed my head off throughout the theme park rides while everyone else broke their voice boxes), I went drinking and binging instead.

My mate Jug spent last night with me in camaraderie as we hoed into a large pizza and did my best to down a bottle of Jimmy while he polished off a bottle of wine. At the same time, we watched this movie called "Across The Universe". It's a quirky, indie-ish musical set during the 60s at the height of the Vietnam War that I can only best describe as a cross between Rent, Grease, even High School Musical, tripped up on acid.

I think it was halfway during one of the film's song and dance number set in a dark and dingy underground New York bar when Jug turned to me and asked how exciting it would have been if we were both in our twenties during the 60s. That set off a spirited conversation on the kind of shenanigans we could have gotten up to. Pretty much the same kind that we do now: drinking, dancing, picking up boys.

That's the thing I really like about Jug. I didn't tell him why I felt like stuffing my face and getting trolleyed but he went along with it anyway. I sensed that he knew something was up and yet still didn't feel the need to prod and ask. But that's not to say that he wouldn't pull me up when I deserved it. He's already done that. In fact, I would have gotten myself in plenty more trouble if it wasn't for him. He's saved my arse from embarrassment many times.

The rest of the night was spent half watching the movie, half talking and trying to keep ourselves from chucking up the alcohol and junk we'd consumed. Eventually, I'd had enough and dragged myself to the spare bed that Jug had made. Waking up this morning, I didn't feel like the world had magically changed nor the things that niggled at me only yesterday had completely disappeared, but still, I felt a little better.

Sometimes you don't really need anything complicated or profound to find the kind of solace that's sorely needed. Sometimes all it really takes is to shoot the shit with your best mate.