Escape from L.A.

My big LA send-off shindig was a few days ago, and my lungs have finally stopped feeling like ash. It was all I could have wished for: a glorious night under the stars, with nearly all the friends I have made in this town (as well as quite a few new people whom I regret I will not get to know better), crowded onto the top deck of the Formosa Cafe in West Hollywood; I am proud that I was able to put together an event like this all by myself. I am also proud that I behaved myself the entire night... no black-outs, no drunken tackling of unfortunate women, no destruction of burger restaurants. Yes, this time I was a perfectly affable host, right up until the bartender announced "Last call," whereupon I slammed down several shots and inhaled the last of my cigarettes. (What? I had to get my kicks in somewhere.) And now, with less than a week before I fly out to the east coast, it is time to get organized. Yeah, okay then.

A big part of how I have made such a successful career of dabbling is that I am a compulsive procrastinator, with a diagnosed case of adult ADHD. I know, everyone delays, everyone puts off... but no one can claim to have made as much an art of it as I. For the past 3 days, despite my honest-to-God best efforts, I appear to have accomplished... well, nothing, in all of my multiple aborted attempts to pack up my studio apartment and sell off my furniture. Right now, it looks like I have at least managed to move everything in my apartment around quite nicely - to the point that it looks like I experienced a violently psychotic episode. Tables and chairs lay strewn about, halfway taken apart, because in the middle of removing the legs from my glass-top coffee table I decided I needed a break and spent the rest of the afternoon watching Entourage episodes. Then I needed to take a break from that to order pizza with my next-door neighbors, and eat until the food coma washed over me so I had to retire to my bed to nap it off. My first official day of unemplyoment, and I'm already falling apart.

Well, not tomorrow! Tomorrow I will work: I will sell my furniture to thrift shops or donate to charities; I will call to confirm my appointment to ship my car; I will put aside the cigarettes, but not the booze (never the booze); I will pack, I will clean, I will be productive with what little time I have left, so for once in my entire life I am not left panicking at the Zero Hour! Or, maybe instead I will finish watching the 9th season of Friends. I don't know, it's a little early to tell right now.