Friday, January 1, 2016

old year's night

I went from feeling sorry for myself last Saturday to having three options for new year's eve.  Option one, a woman in my martial arts class invited me to her party.  That sounded like a blast, but it was far away.  Especially on a night when every asshole and their cousin is drinking. 

Option two, my brother invited me to his party.  He usually has fun people and great food, but I felt like a charity case still.  Sigh. 

Option three and the most likely one was to throw myself a PityParty.  Not to brag, but I'm really proficient at these.  I've been doing them for years and can even do them in my sleep.  Which I've done in the past, you doubters. 

Guess which option I picked??  Option one started feeling farther and farther away after looking at Google maps.  Option two was cancelled so he could attend someone else's party.  That left option three -- the PityParty.

I did that fkr up right!!  I got a migraine so bad I had to kick the cat out of bed because her tiny little footfalls on the bed felt like a fkn earthquake.  There was some contorting on the bathroom floor in pain, but apparently I'm refining my technique because there was no vomiting in my hair.  YAY!!  After many meds, and some torturous texts and calls to a friend until the meds kicked in, I started feeling better.  [Thank you for that.  I know it's hard to listen to someone suffer in pain while you're sitting there helpless.]  The crown jewels of my party were all of the fireworks explosions and emergency sirens every few minutes coming from outside.  No matter, I was safely ensconced in my cocoon while what I can only assume was The Purge, happened outside.

Sometimes I wonder if people have any idea when I text them platitudes, that I'm literally sitting here crying telling them to have fun and enjoy whatever cool thing they're telling me about.  I have to assume they don't.  No one is that big of a monster, right?   And then my mind starts going darker wondering wtf is wrong with me.  And then I pull my head out of my ass and wonder whom I'm texting who is sitting there in pain, and I'm the oblivious one.   I know everyone loves texting now, but please pick up the phone now and again and hear a human voice to make sure that person is actually doing okay.

Aside from some bruising by my own fingers when I pushed so hard for acupressure reasons, I'm feeling pretty good.  I woke up early (thanks, Kitten), washed my hair, and savored my Wendycoffee.  Happy New Year, my delightful friends!  I feel a good hair day coming along.

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