An Honest Timeline Of What I Did While My Girlfriend Was Out Of Town For The Weekend

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My girlfriend and I spend a ton of time together. We’ll usually spend one weeknight together and then we’re at the point where we’re close with each other’s friends, so we’ll spend the entire weekend together anyway. What’s nice is that we don’t get sick of each other. Honestly, we just get along really well.

So when Lila reminded me last week that she was going to be at home in Cleveland for the weekend, my immediate reaction was, “Oh shit, I should probably plan something so that I don’t sound like one of those weirdos who can’t function when their significant other is gone.” Should I get drinks with other friends? Should I plan something with coworkers? Should I just get really productive? There were a ton of directions I could have gone with this, but here’s where I landed.

Friday

4:30 p.m.

I clocked out early from work so that I could call my best friend who now lives out in Connecticut and catch up. I could probably write an entire column about how terrible I am at keeping in touch, but it would all just boil down to the fact that every time I have one of these calls, I say I’m going to do it more often, and then months go by and I feel overwhelmed with guilt for not knowing what’s going on in my friends’ lives.

5:30 p.m.

Actually leave the office and walk to Twisted Spoke, a whiskey bar about 5 blocks away. I know we’re all on this “just one beer” kick right now. I had more than just one.

6:15 p.m.

Ordered cheese curds which would coincidentally end up being my only dinner.

7:00 p.m.

Okay, I don’t want to give off the impression that I was just slinging beers back by myself. I was talking with other bar patrons about riveting topics like the fact that it’s snowing in April and whether or not the guy at the end of the bar looked like Drake. At this point (and I know this because I have a time stamp), I actually snuck a picture of the guy and sent it to my group chat with the caption, “Am I drunk or does this guy look like Drake?”

I was met with a barrage of texts making fun of me for being drunk.

7:30 p.m.

I closed out my tab and walked to the train to go home.

7:50 p.m.

I stopped at a liquor store to get beer, wine, and bourbon. Not to drink all in one sitting, but just because I needed to stock up. You know how it goes.

8:15 p.m.

Get home and start drinking the beer that I had just bought.

9:00 p.m.

I went to bed because I was tired and I also had a big day planned.

Saturday

Approximately 10:00 a.m.

I woke up peacefully and naturally, like a damn fawn in a meadow. I’ll be honest, I was feeling great. The weather, on the other hand, was not. Windy, cold, and misty. I don’t think it ever actually rained on Saturday. Either way, I didn’t realize just how nasty it was out there until I left to go for a run to my new apartment. I don’t think I had made it a mile until I was completely drenched.

11:02 a.m.

I got back from my run, showered, and cooked breakfast.

12:00 p.m.

I ended my utilities at my current apartment.

12:25 p.m.

I started utilities at my new apartment.

1:00 p.m.

I rented a U-Haul for when I move to my new apartment.

1:07 p.m.

My roommate and her boyfriend got back from her new apartment and we spent a good 30 minutes talking about how cheap U-Haul is in comparison to other truck rental companies.

1:50 p.m.

Start watching Season 2 of A Series of Unfortunate Events on Netflix.

3:00 p.m.

My roommate and her boyfriend leave for the night. I open my first beer of the day.

3:25 p.m.

I open my second beer of the day.

3:55 p.m.

I open my third beer of the day.

4:05 p.m.

I paused A Series of Unfortunate Events and make my way to the kitchen. Earlier that week, I had bought four blocks of cheese with meats and crackers instead of groceries so that I could prove to myself that I’m still young and spontaneous. So, I sliced up some cheese (Brie, Swiss, Gouda, and a Cheddar so sharp it could cut glass, if you’re curious) and brought that over to my living room, where I continued watching tv.

4:35 p.m.

I open my fourth beer of the day to wash down some of that stanky Swiss.

5:05 p.m.

I pour my first glass of wine for the night. You know what, I’m not going to list out every drink I had on Saturday because it’s starting to make me concerned for myself.

6:30 p.m.

The cheese hit me hard at this point. In total, I think I took down about an entire block. I took a selfie after eating one of my final pieces and sent it to Lila. She said I looked like I was having an orgasm.

10:46 p.m.

I get an incoming FaceTime call from Lila and her friends. They’re all drunk, I accidentally got drunk, and we had a really long discussion about what food I should order. The conclusion? No food, just keep eating cheese.

11:20 p.m.

I finished A Series of Unfortunate Events and start watching the new episodes of New Girl that were added to Netflix. I went to pour another glass of wine but realized that the bottle was empty, so I opened up the bottle of bourbon and poured myself a small glass of that.

Sunday

1:00 a.m.

I finally went to bed.

9:00 a.m.

I woke up with a pounding hangover which made me curious at the time but, in retrospect, it absolutely makes sense.

10:00 a.m.

I actually got out of bed so that I could walk in the rain to the grocery store and pick up some sweet potatoes for breakfast.

1:00 p.m.

After making breakfast, doing dishes, and watching a few episodes of New Girl, I figured it couldn’t hurt to get in bed and, uh, have some super special Charlie time—if you know what I mean.

1:30 p.m.

Nap.

2:15 p.m.

I woke up from my nap and wanted to avoid working out, so I decided to have a little bit more super special Charlie time.

3:00 p.m.

Grappling with whether or not I should work out, I started watching New Girl again. I decided to do one of those at-home workouts that isn’t really a full-blown workout, but it makes you feel good about yourself. But then, for the rest of the day, I just watched TV and went to sleep.

So, yeah. You could say it was a pretty wild weekend. .

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Charlie

Using sarcasm as a defense mechanism since 1993. At any given moment I'm either tired, drunk, or stressed out. Get at me at charliepgp@gmail.com or whatever.

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