I woke up today sometime around noon, and my apartment was freezing. Even though it’s July in LA. It was cold ‘cause I left the AC on high when i went to bed. And not energy-saver-high, the opposite of that. Even though yes I know that it’s all a ticking time bomb, and that we’ve got just ten years to avert a major catastrophe that could send our planet into a tail-spin of extreme weather, floods, droughts, epidemics and killer heat waves beyond anything we have ever experienced ending in our epic destruction: But I don’t find this truth so inconvenient. I don’t have kids, and I’m not into saving anybody. Sorry Al.
I got up, turned off the AC because it was seriously too cold. But I left the windows closed, so it wouldn’t get to warm. What can I say I’m a thinker.
I made some eggs w/ Prosciutto and just a little bit of Gruyère. I drank a pot of coffee and then sat down do some writing…. Which in my case writing is really a euphemism for watching comedy shorts on line, reading Perezhilton or some such shit, checking my Myspace messages, stalking people I used to have relationships with … and so on.
If I wrote as much as I said I do when people call me and say, “What you up to?” And I say, “Just doing some writing.” I’d be in a much better place.
After an hour of non-writing writing, I make my way over to the couch, watched “ The Shawshank Redemption .” Because it’s the only constant in my life. Seriously, it’s always on TNT, USA, or HBO on demand. And if not I have the DVD just in case… Right around that time Tim Robbins says to Morgan Freeman, “Get busy living, or busy dying-” I passed out.
I’d been up for 2½ hours at that point so I needed a nap.
When I woke up two hours later I started to light a cigarette but then stopped when I smelt gas. With a cigarette hanging out of my mouth and lighter in my hand I looked over at the stove and saw that the gas is on. Must have left it on after cooking the eggs about 4 hours before.
And that’s when it hits me. That if I’d lit the smoke and blew myself up. Or if I had slowly died of asphyxiation… well two things....
First of all how long before they found me? I guess if I blew myself up, the sexy Armenian neighbor who doesn’t speak English, and always wears very skimpy clothes when she smokes in the driveway, would have heard the explosion…. But if I died of Asphyxiation, from the gas, would it be days before someone noticed? Weeks?
And secondly, if I died either of these ways, I don’t think there's a person who knows me, who wouldn’t hear about me dying this way and based on the way I am, no one wouldn't automatically think that I’d killed myself... “Oh yeah makes sense…. You know its Brian.”
Like, even in most cases when they tell mothers that their kids have committed suicide they just refuse to believe it. “Not my son. No way…” But I imagine that as upset as my mother would be, and she would, we have a decent relationship…. But even she would be like, “Yeah, Well. Kinda saw that one coming.”
Like no one would investigate!
So I decides that from now on, every morning I’m gonna write a non-suicide note, and carry it in my pocket at all times.
Also if you’re around tonight (Friday 8/01) @ 8:00 I’m doing a show that you should come see. It’s a bunch of funny people telling funny stories. Some of the people in it are Lauren Weedman, Nick Kroll, Sean Conroy, John Bowie and some other awesome people…..
It’s called, ‘Nights of Our Lives.’
8:00 UCB Theatre – 5919 Franklin Ave in Hollywood