Life Has a Way of Figuring

You know those days? You know... those days. Actually, most of my day today was quite good. I didn't feel like death when my alarm went off this morning, which is a rare occurrence. The day warmed up quite nicely as it went along, I actually got to do some creative designing at work, which is a tremendous rarity. I was in a good mood, listened to classic 60's R&B music for most of the day. Talked about food extensively, which is medicine for the soul for me. Especially when it involves fresh salsa, as it did today. I came home, made said salsa (which was delightful), caught up on what my mother refers to as my "soaps" (okay, so Grey's Anatomy does nearly fall into that category), then headed out to my favorite coffee shops with one of my favorite friends and one of my favorite godsons. It was a good day!

Was. Now, I feel that I need to preemptively say that the following events do not really constitute an awful evening and I fully recognize that. I've just had one of those weeks. You know... those weeks. I am not prone to feelings of loneliness. I spend copious amounts of time alone, and have for the better part of the last 5 or so years. I am very much used to being by myself and embrace that time that I get to spend in solitude. However, lately, I have been succumbing to periods loneliness and mild depression from just being alone so much. Its really not bad, and I push through it just fine. This week has been a little tougher though. There is no real reason why. I have just been.... alone. As usual.

I knew during my afternoon at work today that I was going to have to find something to occupy myself with this evening. I was wired (which isn't very common), actually had energy for once, and was freaking sick and tired of spending my evenings alone. Now, it would not seem such a feat to find a friend to spend the evening with. However, when 99.9% of your friends are married, it can cause a serious damper to your social life. My normal hangout buddy, one of the 0.01% that is not married, was busy. This left me in quite a predicament. I tried to get a hold of a few other people, who, naturally, actually had plans. Apparently, people who have real lives do have plans on a Friday night. Thankfully, my friend Rachel initiated a coffee date with us and her son. This took up a few hours. Awesome.

So, now what? By 9:30, I was back home on my couch. Feeling pretty sorry for myself, truth be told. At about 11:30, I was off to drop my car off at the garage (this is a topic for another blog. I don't even want to talk about that right now). By this point, I had already settled into a pathetic mood. After turning at a green stoplight, I see something that every driver dreads: flashing blue and red lights. Oh, how my night just got better! Part of my trip to the garage was to get a headlight fixed, which should have been replaced when my car was in the shop yesterday. For some reason completely unbeknown to me, this had not been done. Let me tell you, I was loving life. When the officer came to my window, I asked what the problem was, even though I was pretty certain I knew. After telling me about my headlight (which I quickly interjected that I was literally on my way to drop my car off), I discovered that the US Postal Service had not done its due diligence in delivering my car registration renewal. Awesome. "It so freaking figures," I thought to myself. I already had a headache with the repairs on my car, I was still in the middle of throwing a pity party for myself that I have no life, and now I could practically feel the citation with a triple figure price tag attached. Perfect.

I think that the officer felt bad for me. Which is obviously unusual for a cop. However, I am grateful for his consideration. Maybe he could see my party hat on and decided to have mercy. I don't know. However, I'll take the faulty equipment notice with a warning that I need to take care of the headlight (insert reiteration of taking it to the garage now here) and also must get my registration current within 5 days, at which time I must go to a Bethlehem PD office and get it all checked out. Or else I will get that triple digit citation.

I have yet again discovered the healing powers of stress eating and drinking. My day has not been awful, granted. But I'd sure as heck like to to be over. In the meantime, I'll continue to shove my face in this bag of veggie chips in an attempt to stay away from the ice cream.

I may not be able to hold out much longer.