Thursday drinks again. This is a tradition that might be killing me. Me, Jakob, Miles, Mel and Jason went to The Warwick again and i think I counted about 8 rounds.
J and me spent the morning walking in alternatively dreaming of laying in a pool drinking virgin cocktails and talking about being lousy people for being massively hung over on a thursday.
The boys long after it went very foggy and both Mel and Jason had left us. Need to learn how to leave. It isnt necessary staying out to the bitter end EVERY time.
Miles helping some 17 year old boys were they should be going to meet girls. 17. Thats half my age.
I’m no good with drinking at the moment. There is a lot of anger about well, everything, and it comes out when im drunk. Im all hard edges. You know when the jokes arent funny any longer but borderline mean. And i dont want to be mean. I say things i definitely shouldnt. But, I get so bored I want to shoot myself when im just home alone.
I need holiday and a break from myself. I hope Spain can be a well needed pause from London and this life that doesnt seem to work very well for me at the moment.
Im going to admit something that is really hard to talk about. Mainly because its such a negative feeling and I dont want to be a negative person. But, sometimes the mind does what i wants and you just got to go for the ride.
Im really jealous of all my friends having the things I just said goodbye too. Being in relationships, having babies, getting married. Im both very happy for them but also find it so hard because I want to be there too. I watch them be where i want to be and somewhere in my heart there is a little dark corner going ‘damn you, how i wish that was me.’
At the same time im very happy being where i am at the moment. Finding my way back to what i want to do, having a lot of fun, being surrounded by people making me smile. Its like there is 2 parts to me at the moment. A dark, jealous, negative part and one that is smiling big and dreaming even bigger.
I try to not let the darkness shine through and think positive on me and my life. That i will be there too and it will all be at the right time and right place and I will be happier than i ever thought. I try and keep that thought when I look at the world and stumble to keep up with everything around me.
I cant wait for holiday. With the lucky stroke of actually going to BM I have 3 weeks this summer. Feels pretty damn epic. However, still 2 weeks to go. Feels like eternity in a summery London with nothing to do at work.
Well, I spend my time going for drinks, socialising and sitting on the sofa. Yesterday I went with Dimitra for a drink before heading to pick up the dog. He’s a blessing in disguise since he make me not go ’til late (D is sick from work today…)
Picked up mini monster and took him on the tube. He chilled and i admired my nails as well as worrying about this wound on my foot (from a shoe mind you but my homeless feet are not to be trusted) that i think might be on the way to get infected.
Since im miss ‘dont mind me, I dont need legs’ Im still walking in and just hoping that the wound will sort itself out. That hasnt proven very sucessful in the past but hey, not a summer without some kind of weird wound (think last one was fine so im probably in for a treat this year)
State of mind. Last night i wanted to punch that little furry guy when I was awake between 3 – 5 with my wound hurting (im sure it’ll be fine) and W slept soundly next to me and then as soon as I feel asleep he started fussing needing to go out and wanting to sleep under the covers. The life of a dog parent.
Hey, its been 4 months tomorrow. Shit, times flown by. Its like they say, time do really heal all wounds. Im actually ok. I never thought that would happen day 2 when my heart was breaking into a million pieces. Or, I knew it would get better, the way you ‘know’ these kind of things but i couldnt feel it. When my life consisted of crying and endless hours of anime I thought i would be sad forever. I really did. I couldnt see myself ever smile again.
Slowly i got out of the worst bits and summer hit me full force. Instead of hating of the flowers of spring I started loving the green of summer. I switched my ‘when it fucking hurts’ music list to my ‘HAPPY’ one and started wearing cute clothes again feeling alive. I danced in a club in Prague with my sister and felt my heart healing.
I kissed boys. I felt like I could maybe, potentially, like someone a little bit again. My dreams went from being killed every night to those of holidays and sun. I started daydreaming again. How i missed that. Suddenly I saw cute boys and made up a whole life with them in the space of a tube journey.
More than anything, my smile came back. I had people telling me my smile can make anyone happy, that my dancing is pure joy and that im the coolest person they know. I became me from that sad, worried shadow.
But a better me. A me that’s realised more about myself. A me that wont hide from my feelings any longer. That won’t try and control every aspect of my emotional life but fight to let go. That doesnt come naturally. My life has been a series of ‘this is not good for me, Ill chose the right thing. Ive just decided this is ‘right”. Im not saying thats been wrong but there has been a big thing of saving myself from getting hurt by hiding behind complete control over the emotional situation.
No longer. My goal is to try and let go and maybe meet someone who is not ‘right’ from my controlled point of view but maybe right by making me not so scared of my feelings.
So, 4 months later im getting there. Im making plans, trying to grow and of course, worry the shit out of myself about the whole being single, baby thing but im sure that will work out (gaaaaaah)
One thing about being a divorced dog parent is the leaving and picking up. Loads of that going on. Mostly I leave W with M in the mornings and then about half of the time i swing by the studio and pick him up on the way home.
That would be ok if it wasnt for the rush hour tube. In other words – hell on earth. Poor W has to stand patiently through all of that looking as miserable as i feel.
He is good though. He kind of knows its his routine now. He hates the us not going home together like a happy family but he is fine. He gets love from both of us every day so life is pretty sweet for this little furball.
He also gets my left overs. He loves anything chicken but doesnt say no to a perfect arrabiata. And he sleeps in my bed all streched out next to me and wake me up at least twice a night to be let out. Just like a parent. At least i got some grown up points in my life.
Another weekend over. What did I do – well nothing. Hallelujah. It was pretty boring but much needed for my poor body struggling with this summers excessive living.
Well, I guess Friday i got sucked into the company celebrating the virgin re brand with jello shots and pink, very alcoholic, slushees. We also played beer pong. I sucked but got to be on the team because i had swag (a bit like back in the days on the choir in Lund).
After making a beer pong fool of myself I went to pick up the dog from Oliver and had some dinner with him and M. Me tipsy, them very much sober.
Saturday…hm…walked the dog, went to westfields, read the last book in Boije af Gennas amazing trilogy about Stockholm (in actual book form) and made dinner for J and me. Felt like holiday mood. Minus the alcohol. And sun.
On Sunday J and me went down to Southbank to get some London feeling. This is some people playing classical music by the tube. We also ate burrito. After that J went to watch football and I went to westfields…again. Bought some scandalosuly short shorts and crop tops on the sale for BM. Since you are basically naked in the desert i felt like this year I should have some actual tops and not just bikinis. Being 33 and all.
This morning it poured down and i went function over fashion. Must be some kind of left over from Ol. J gave up half way but W and me fought through the weather (well, I had to drag W half the way). Now, Monday morning in the office.
It was Thirsty Thursdays last night and true to form went out for one (maybe more) drinks with my colleagues. Due to the company having some deal with one of the pubs you get a free bottle of wine and happy hour until 9 if you book a table. Easy. Thats like catnip to my (not me mind you) colleagues. (Especially Miles who booked a table even if he only had 2 hours before heading off to get as drunk as possible. He did well.)
We headed to the Warwick and had some ciders/beers/wine and talked shit. You could say that is what our thursdays are all about. This time around we got to see Kola’s Magic Mike video, discuss babies vs marriage w Chris (the others were not happy about such a grown up subject) and send a ‘flick the finger at miles’ picture for leaving us to go to Leicester.
Damn you Miles. (also, who is the man inte background? We looked around after the pic was taken and he was just pooof, gone. A ghost)