I've been feeling just awful. I have never found myself so brokenhearted and miserable. And on multiple home fronts too. It feels like craptastic is being scored in NBA numbers, when I'm only equipped to manage NHL figures.
But tonight for the first time I kinda feel a tad less terrible.
Ok, not awesome, but certainly a much needed and appreciated switcharoo. Even if only temporarily.
It started with a bottle of wine and a visit from a friend, (codename) Dole Pineapple, marking the official end of my, 'I don't wanna talk to anybody/I don't wanna see anybody' phase. As well as my first indulgence in alcohol therapy.
Alcohol therapy. I guess that probably shouldn't be a thing. But as the saying goes, 'it is what it is'. ...It's not like I hit the crack pipe :10 seconds after things started going shitty, kicked a puppy, got some crazy ass look changin' plastic surgery, knocked over a bank and devised some evil and painful way to exact revenge, so suck it.
After Dole Pineapple's visit and some chardonnay I found myself taking the baby step of actually touching a pan. That's right. I made a grilled ham and swiss sammie. My first BBG prepared meal since all of the heartbreak began. Yes. Fuckin' fine. I'm a sad ass who's been livin' not on reds, vitamin C and cocaine, but on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Marlboro ultra lights, large quantities of water and Chick O Sticks.
The next day magically found me attempting to learn to bellydance, thanks to wacky cable offerings. For the record, it turns out, I am incapable of bellydancing. Lesson learned. But at least I felt like doin' sumthin, ya know?
Then I morphed into a girl who listened to music again. It started with the expected sad assed songs of heartache.
But before I realized it I was cuing up other musical options.
And gained a new respect for a lil' ditty I've always liked, but honestly, have only ever associated with my once beloved China Beach. (Boonie and Dodger shout out!)
Lady D and the gals knew a lil' sumthin' sumthin'.
As did this cat named Jaron.
Next thing I knew I was in need of a bit of "I wanna own a llama, I want less drama"
And in, I don't even like Kayne news this:
(Yes, my musical tastes are what some may call a freakshow. Suck it.)
Ok, so it's not like I should get a gold star or anything. People get their hearts ripped out and stomped on every day, and endure far bigger and more traumatic issues than I'm juggling. But with an actual meal (thank you ham and cheesy grilled goodness), a bottle of chard, and music that makes ya not wanna go loop a sheet around the highest beam, and a couple of almost normalish nights of sleep under my belt, I'm hoping some of the awfulness of March is starting to fade a bit. I donno what tomorrow will bring, (hopefully a continued upward trajectory), but April, I'm putting you on notice: I need you to be awesome.