What to Do?

I’m sitting at the table here, with a full bag of nestle’ chocolate chips and an almost empty bottle of wine and I’m trying to find something to do. My nights are a ten hour space of nothingness. I have absolutely nothing to do until tomorrow at eleven. The possibilities would be endless but for the situation. I’ve locked my keys in my car. I have no way of retrieving them until tomorrow morning when the spare will arrive. I am utterly stranded tonight. So I sit here completely alone, and half drunk trying to figure out just what to do with my time. The one thing I want to do is not an option, so I try to figure out something else to occupy the next ten hours of being completely alone. Its nights like this that I wish I could just lay in front of a television. But I never got around to getting the cable hooked up. (Sort of wishing I had it to help me waste the hours away tonight.) I could be a good little woman and clean the house, but I’m not much of a good little woman. I could work on my book, but I have a serious case of writer’s block. I could chat online with some of my friends, but just like the real ones in my world, they aren’t near a phone line. What to do? Damn. I don’t know. I really hate being alone all of the time. I’ve been alone six nights out of the week, four weeks a month, for the last five years. I don’t remember choosing to be alone. I’ve had about a thousand nights like this, completely alone, no one to talk to, and bored out of my fucking mind. I’ve read all of the books in my house at least three times, and have no desire or need to read any of them again. I hate people who can do that. Watch a movie, or read a book that they have already experienced and not remember it. They laugh at it like it was the first time they ever saw it. I can watch a movie once and damn near be able to recite it for you a few years later. So watching any of the movies I own or books on the shelves is out of the question. I hate repetition. Having each day just like the last. I crave new experience. There is none under this roof. I wish I could leave now. But since I’m drunk and the keys miraculously decided to lock themselves in the truck, I am stuck here for the night. What now?