THE JULIEN PROJECT

17

“Mm. What time is it? Has the alarm clock rung yet?” I say, stretching.

Without opening my eyes because, in reality, I dread still being Julien, I stretch with my whole body which seems very large to me. It doesn’t take long for my hand to get to where the answer lies and… f**k it! I’m still a man, with a club as hard as ever between my legs. It wakes me up suddenly and I feel the anger rising.

“Piss off! s**t! It’s a stab in my ass! It’s crazy to have this incessant pole! f**k!”

Whoa! that’s a lot of profanity all at once. I didn’t know I was so rude. Paul and his disapproving look come to mind. Men are certainly more vulgar but it cannot continue like that, I must find something else: “Firecracker!” That’s better!

I look at the time on my phone and… Oh, well, gosh! It’s only 4:12 am. What am I going to do now? I don’t want to sleep at all. At the same time, what was I expecting when I fell asleep at ten o’clock? No, but I’m so stupid! I’m too pissed off to relax. I turn around in bed. I would need a little company to generate endorphins. Strange thoughts arise; the magazine, the toilet paper. I could polish my handle to see what happens. Outraged by my contradictory thoughts, I buried my head under the pillow, hoping that my ardour died down as quickly as possible.

A game of questions and answers settles in my head between Julien and Julie. Is Paul asleep at this hour? Of course, Paul’s asleep at this hour. Would he blame me if I called him? Of course, he would be mad at me if I called him at this hour. And Odette? At her age, she must have finished her night, right? I’m not going to ring Odette’s doorbell anyway! Under what pretext? Bring her an empty jar?

“Son of a hairless head in winter! I’m really in a mess!” I say out loud.

I decide to take a look on f*******: to see what’s the news from my pseudo friends. Apart from my family members, there are loads of names that are unknown to me. I sweep people’s lives without enthusiasm and decide to post one word, just one, Insomnia, followed by the sad emoticon. Obviously, I’m not expecting any response since first, there’s nothing to say about it, and second, it’s only five o’clock and at five o’clock everyone is supposed to be asleep. I surf the Net a bit to pass the time and a beep disturbs my virtual wandering. I received a message via Messenger. It comes from Melanie. Damn it! Melanie. What can she possibly want with me?

She: You can’t sleep, Julien. A problem?

I don’t know what to say. Should I just answer, first? Oh, and then that will pass the time.

Me: It can happen to anyone. It’s a little transient insomnia. Are you doing okay?

I write mundane formalities, just to be polite.

Elle: Since my asshole guy dumped me because he was regularly banging a colleague, let’s say it could get better.

Me: Ah, sorry.

She: You’re kidding me, I hope.

Me: Sorry?

She: I was hoping for a gesture, an awareness afterwards, an ounce of remorse, but nothing...

Me: You know, men are what they are.

She: ???

Me: What ???

She: I think you’re kidding me; we’re going to stop here; I shouldn’t have come talk to you. Good night!

Bah, what’s wrong with her? Another nutty! Run for your life!

Me: Uh, I don’t know why such aggressiveness but if you say so, then good night to you too!

Her: Julien, either you’re a sleepwalker, or you’re drunk so as not to understand that this asshole guy is you!

Oh, s**t! Melanie! My ex! My mom told me about her on Saturday morning when I got her on the phone, but I was so shocked at finding my new self that I didn’t pay attention.

Me: I’m sorry, Melanie. Accept my apologies. You’re a good girl; you deserve better than me.

She: Pathetic! Worst of all!

Me: I understand, I assure you. Don’t ask me why but when I put myself in your shoes and… I can imagine how you can blame me and blame all men in general.

She: You’re completely rambling, you ...

Me: Listen… Paul is throwing a little party for me on Friday. If your heart tells you, I’d be happy to see you there.

She: Don’t count on me!

Me: If you change your mind and want more info, contact Paul. He’s the one who’s taking care of my little party. I guess you know him.

She: If I know Paul? If I know Paul! Are you trying to be so cruel or what?

Me: ???

She: It was Paul who opened my eyes to your behaviour with women. So of course, I know Paul! Your super best friend!

Me: Ah...

She: Okay, come on! STOP messaging. I’m too pissed off! Goodbye!

Me: Okay

My message has remained pending. Melanie has disconnected, surely very angry by my Uh, Ah, Okay, and all those expressions typical of the lack of repartee of men in general. If we add the yes and the no, the picture is complete. As Julie, I’ve often wondered why male answers were much shorter than ours. Anyway, it’ll be one more discovery to write in my red notebook, moreover, I’m going to do it straight away, it’ll allow me to vent in the process.

I’m here. This will be point number:

23 / Men use “uh”, “ah”, “Okay”, “yes” and “no”, especially in messages and SMS, because they don’t want to waste their time doing big sentences. They get straight to the point.

There! With that, I feel like I could go back to sleep. I’m off. Who knows, maybe this was the ultimate revelation that will make me a girl again.

Warm in my bed, I feel serene, as if I were relieved. The conversation with Melanie is only a distant memory. Tomorrow is another day, I’m sure.