Stone Cold Fox

I am feeling good for the first time in days. I didn't this morning. This morning I felt like shit that had been trampled on by roadkill that had been run over by a dumptruck which then was hit by a train. And ultimately, I felt like the shit and the roadkill and the dumptruck. Just not the train. Fucking train. Fuck him and his train track. (Well, not actually, I won't be getting any action for a while.)

But that was mostly the hangover talking. Good god why did I drink that much? I do not even remember the last time I was that drunk and I'm reminded why I drink so minimally. And I suppose that's good for what I'm dealing with. I mean, I may eat my words tomorrow or in a few days. I may go back to weepy idiot woman again. But getting that pissed really got a lot of purging done. Sometimes all you need is a drunken cry to feel better later. Much later, after the hangover dissipates.

Because hungover me was just as shitty. I was cranky and miserable and the whole world looked like a rotating ball of shit. But, after walking to meet the friends at breakfast (because I wisely left my car at my friend's last night and hoofed it home), a painful grocery store trip, a little forced cleaning (more on that later), a subsequent nap which was pure heaven, and a long-needed phone convo with one of my favorite people on the planet otherwise known as a best friend (my lovely Lynn who just moved back to Oregon and I'm so happy for her!), meeting the friends at the farm again (god love them), and the gift of a very fantastical book from the effervescent Morgan, I'm feeling better. I feel tired, yes. Worn out, oh fuck yeah. But, better. Somewhat human.

And since this was intended to be a short post, I'll just quickly mention the cleaning. I LOVE to clean. I hate laundry and dishes, but otherwise love cleaning. It's relaxing, just focusing on the task of organizing and cleansing. It always calms me down and clears my head, not to mention that the clean space helps for a more sanctive (I just made that word up) living space. But, by my standards, my place is in squalor right now. Not by normal standards, mind you. Many people live much more disgustingly than this, but it's just not something I can handle. And I just have not had the energy to clean at all. I don't even recognize myself right now. So, I forced myself to do a little. Not much, mind you. I've been more in the mood for a pout. But, maybe tomorrow I'll be able to do a little more and a little more after that. Baby steps on the bus.

And speaking of Bob. Or not really, but what a great segue. I have to quote this great book Mo gave me called, "It's Called a Breakup Becaue It's Broken." You can find it here. And I'll keep you updated when I get further into it and have benefited from its infinite yet often acerbic wisdom.

My fave excerpt so far:

"But the flip side of breaking up - and here's the Best News part- is that you are also breakingfree from a relationship that wasn't working. Freedom means no more agonizing, no more drama, and no more time wasted on someone who wasn't appreciative of who you really are. Freedom means you can redesign your life and the sky's the limit - you can take all the things you hoped for in your relationship, all your dreams about what love should be and feel and look like, and find a guy who will actually make them happen. During this time when you feel decimated and powerless, remember that you are still in control of at least one thing- yourself...You get to decide whether to use this situation as a turning point, and be dignified in your grief, or let it overtake you and hold you back. So start now. Start today. Don't be a victim of heartbreak, be a take-charge superstar! (Yeah, that's kind of goofy, but you know what we mean.)"

And you know what else I like about this book? It keeps telling me I'm a superfox. And I just love that kind of affirmation.

And here's a picture of me being a superfox and rocking the mic at karaoke last night: