So this afternoon went a lot better. I bounced out to get a haircut. (The vibration of the shears on my head is relaxing.) My barber must have sensed my woe cause he hooked my shape up extra tight. My head, it should thank him. My mirror certainly does! Ha!
Then, I realize three of my favorite people are headed North from DC-- by coincidence-- within the next 4 days. Starting tomorrow, it becomes the unofficial Get Belle Back in Good Spirits week. Ace arrives on Wed. to relive XXX and Mom and she will put in a week's worth of fun. (ie, the city is about to get ignorant. Plus, we have decent weather. I may throw a party in her honor.)
My favorite male delight sensed my woes (he's weird like that) and has offered a firm, wide, muscular shoulder to lean on should I be in need. Oh, and his pillow. The one on his bed or he can bring his own to my spot. I remind him that "Sir, we have never shared pillows!" He reminds me, "you have options that you don't use." Touche. Oh, and he'll replace the light in the bedroom. Yes, I have been getting dressed in the semi-dark for a week.
Three more besties have expressed shock and outrage at the turn of events and I've even found a kind ear in the BFF of an unlikely source. Check-in phone calls and e-mails all day.
I love how my people rally around me. I've been swarmed with attacks of love and finally honest declarations, ("well, frankly, i never liked his ass anyway.") And I super appreciate all the menfolk who have gone out of their way to be extra sweet (and super protective). "He sucks. Men do not suck. Don't blame us for him!" I won't, guys, I promise.
I was looking forward to a serious depression for the forseeable future. But when life gives me lemons, they make me spiked lemonade. Evidently, there are benefits to being the "baby" of the bunch. And too, I'm reminded, Spring is coming. That means fresh shape ups and white wife Bs (my weakness) on dudes. It is better for a bad occurence in the late Winter than in the early Fall when I've missed the chance to gather a Winter Starting Five.
"But I really liked this one," I argue.
"And you'll really like the next one too. Now, go put on your blush. Your cheeks ain't naturally rosey."
Morning: 8AM I wake up in a rush
9AM On the train getting crushed
10AM Get an offer from Breezy
11AM Why can’t life always be this easy?
At some point around NOON I’m just staring at the screen on my desk
Ten minutes later I realize my life is a mess
You wouldn’t believe the last 18 hour dramadey that is my life. I swear, I‘d write the story, but no one will ever believe me. You just can’t make this shit up. I got the go-ahead to write it (really, it’s the least extension that could be made.) But I’m saving this one for the book. Some shit I can just pound out. Other stuff? I just have to wrap my brain around what just happened for a long, long time.
I tried to listen to my iPod, but all I got is deep thinking music. I want to hear ignorant shit. Shit about rims, and Caddys, and d-boys.
Everytime I think about it, I laugh. What else can I do? It’s like some the universe is somebody’s tortuous big brother and he’s holding me down, tickling me relentlessly. This motherfucker will not stop. Ha!
I’m getting off Main Street. This place is a gift and a curse. If I didn’t love my job so, I would buy a one way ticket out of the NE Corridor.
I swear, I am not built for this shit. Shit= anything grey.
If you find the time, send up a prayer for Belle. I need it.
Have a great weekend, everyone. Be anonymous.