Kelly and I cleaned the house today – to the level of vacuuming UNDER the sofa pillows and rotating them, and while I was vacuuming I was dancing to Salt’n Pepa, so not only do I have the feeling of productivity, I also have the exhaustion of exercise, and I just feel so GOOD. This euphoria is similar to that of when your antidepressants first start kicking in and your showers and coffees feel like orgasms for a week, and it is pretty great. It has been a long time coming. I have not felt this good, well, all year maybe?
Last Friday I was at Emma’s birthday party when I got a text from the ex telling me that she was seeing someone – and it was her ex boyfriend. They got back together three weeks after we broke up. Suffice to say, I cried and cried and cried. I felt destroyed. It sucked. But Good Tom and Hilary held me and stroked my hair and that helped.
And work has been unbelievably busy and hard and I have not being doing my best, and that frustrates me, but the really busy time is over, and I know it will get better from here. Hopefully.
Kelly is back from Auckland now and just having her around is amazing. The cats love her. We talk shit, and make each other feel supported. It’s great.
The other night I went to a rally at parliament to counteract an anti-gay-marriage prayer vigil. There were sequins and rainbows and laughter, and I have never sung “Going to the chapel” so much. At one stage we were singing “Lean on me” and I’ve never really liked that song, but I was there with Emma and Simon who’ve been taking me swimming, and Kelly who always has my back, and Beth who is a new friend but who called me as soon as she saw my tweets about the ex angst, and I just felt so supported and lucky, and I got a little teary. There are still dreadful people saying dreadful things about the bill, but I am hopeful it will pass. And that’s a great thing.
Last night I went out with Beth to Hummingbird and I wrote it up for the Wellingtonista, and for the first time this year, I felt like myself again. I wasn’t some broken girl, still in love with her ex girlfriend, crippled with doubt about how all her friends hate her now and a total failure at her job, I was just Jo Hubris, teller of filthy stories, wine drinker and vague flirt. And that felt amazing.
So I will share with you a ridiculous story, because I have many. The other week at Jo’s goodbye party, I got a little drunk (no, really?) and I saw a guy who I’ve had a mini crush on for a while, in that I see him around occasionally and have thought he might be a good person to get to know better, and so I texted him so see if maybe he wanted to go for a drink sometime. He said he was game, and so somehow, because it was 2am and because I was very drunk, and because well, work has been all consuming lately, I thought it might be a good idea to take him on an adventure. That’s right, without warning him, I took him to children’s theatre. I mean, yes, it was a really great play. But honestly, who promises someone margaritas and then does that? Hashtag #foreveralone. But that’s okay, because I have a clean house and some good friends, old and new.