The thing about working a soul sucking job that takes up all the hours (and then some) and fills the rest with restlessness and anxiety is that when I am not working said job, I am crashing lifeless on my couch while Gilmore Girls runs on an endless loop and I am only half watching it because my job has taken up all of my cares and I am busy calculating exactly how long I can go without doing laundry before I’ll have more loads than I have quarters for.
This is not a life I want to be living.
This fall has been a challenge.
It’s okay though, because I have a plan (not just to get a giant roll of quarters the next time I am at the bank). Part of that plan involved sleeping in last Saturday until I didn’t need to sleep anymore. It was small, but important. I’ve tried this before, but on Saturday, I was finally successful and I felt great and like teenager Amanda all over again (except less angsty). And I stretched my arms as I stood on my balcony while the dogs went and took care of their business and the sun shone and I thought, Today is beautiful and I am going to put on pants and go eat eggs and work on my novel in the sunshine!” and then maybe I spun around like Maria von Trapp and I didn’t care because my chain smoking neighbor, who is the only one who can see me anyway, always laughs endearingly at me when I do such things.
I put on pants and drove with the windows down and I blasted Taylor Swift (because seriously, how much are we all obsessed with 1989)!
Then there were no tables and a line out the door at the eggs and novel writing place.
Or there was no parking, which was the case for the next two places I tried.
So I found myself walking into a dive that had ample parking but no line, which may have been because they don’t serve eggs (or any food), but had lots of tables and they do serve bloody mary’s, and I decided that was just as good as eggs.
Several hours later I had switched to “Boozey Lemonade” and convinced a friend to join me and help me climb the hurdles I was encountering in my novel. He brought metaphorical rope and thoughtful questions. The sun shone and I was perfectly day drunk and writing and feeling a little bit of my soul for the first time in a while and I wanted to stretch out my arms and Maria von Trapp again, but my friend is easily embarrassed so I didn’t.
I wandered around downtown (obviously still listening to T. Swift) and I made drunk purchases at Urban Outfitters and I smiled a lot (and not just from the Boozey Lemonade) and as the day came to a close, I met up with a fella who was in town and we sipped classy drinks and chatted about all the nerdiest things in the world and then we went back to his place where we curled up and I read aloud from Amy Poehler’s book (and recent day drunk purchase), Yes Please.
Sometimes life is just like that. Things are shit and then sleep finally happens and boozey lemonade and drunk purchases turn out to be good and well-fitting choices and pulling out a book and saying to a cute boy, “I mean, I could read this to you” TOTALLY WORKS!