I spend most of my life being bored.
I live for the moments in which I am actually enjoying living, rather than tolerating my own existence. I never go and do anything on weeknights when I have to work the next day. I stick to a pretty normal schedule, and if people want me to do something ON a worknight, I decline almost immediately, because it's just a bad idea.
Last night, I threw caution to the wind.
I didn't mean to...it just kind of happened.
I got a pretty healthy buzz/minorly drunk at my house. It was't some "exciting event". There were no other "people" or anyone else to "drink with" (as I put these quotation marks in, I am completely imagining Chris Farley delivering this post in a monologue.) It wasn't the "responsible thing" and it could've ended in me becoming an "emotional mess".
But it didn't. I laughed with my friends on the phone all evening, and then Andy woke up and came to locate me since I didn't come to bed and found me drunk in the garage, smoking a cigarette. And then we went up to bed, and I talked him in to coming back down for "just one more." I am pretty sure I walked in to the door jam a few times, because I remember laughing about that, and then there was a conversation about doing kareoke when I am in California next week and "seizing the moment."
The point is...I had fun. I needed that.
Every day, I feel a little better and a little more secure in my own skin again. Anyone who has been through a rough patch knows that the first couple of times they feel GREAT, it is such a huge step in moving on. It's so normal to just feel uneasy and anxious or just surviving, that to have a really good night makes a big difference.
Andy said it made him feel better to see me be so silly and happy, because he hasn't seen that in so long. And I want that person to come out more often, because that is who I used to be and want to be again.
The good news is....she's still here.