New England

This morning was very bad. I ate at Taco Bell last night, because I wanted to shovel a load of shit down my throat as quickly as I could. I did this right before I went to sleep. I had Volcano nachos, two Doritos steak tacos, and a steak quesadilla. This happened very late at night. At four in the morning, I woke up with acid reflux. I had to chug a gallon of water to get rid of the burn. I didn’t go back to sleep for another two hours, but then I had to wake up a half hour after that. I wasn’t happy. I don’t know why I do this.

Then we drove to Massachusetts. Whenever I leave from New York to go on a long drive, I’m always amazed at how two cars on an empty road can create a total clusterfuck. I think this only happens in New York, because people in New York are fucking stupid when they drive.

I’m in the Berkshires now, on vacation. I just ate at a pizzeria in Great Barrington called Baba Louie’s. If you’re ever there, try the barbeque chicken pizza. I’d never had good pizza in New England before, except at a place in East Boston called Santarpio’s—although I don’t know if you can call a pile of barbeque chicken on top of flatbread “pizza,” exactly.

The table next to us was filled with irritating nineteen-year-olds who thought they were funnier and more sophisticated than they actually were. You know the type. They were trying to top each other for loudness. Their stories weren’t funny. I tried not to listen, but the volume was too high. Ten years ago, I would have told them to shut the fuck up.

I tried to take a nap this afternoon, but I couldn’t sleep, so we went to eat. After we ate, we went to the Price Chopper on MA-7 to get coffee for tomorrow morning. I bagged my own groceries. The Price Chopper is fucking huge.

Today was a mixed bag.