May 13, 2011

Happy Friday the 13th!

I was covering a shift for my boss and unfortunately had to work this day. However, it was kind of an awesome shift to work. My boss wasn’t there, and the unpleasant vets don’t work on Fridays. It was slow, and we listened to Billie Holliday and laughed.

I had plans to go out with my friend Kayla that night to see a band play in the East Village. She texted me mid-day to let me know that a tragedy had happened to one of her friends, and she wasn’t up to going out. I totally understood, but I was also in a panic. I didn’t want to spend Friday night alone in my apartment. I was worried I’d feel lonely and sad. Plus, not going out on a Friday made me feel like I wasn’t living up to this new, exciting life I was creating for myself.

Within an hour, the gentlemen from the bar the other night (who had bought me a bevy of drinks and raffle tickets) started texting me. I knew where it was going, but I was just so afraid of being alone on a Friday night. Finally the text came asking me out to dinner and a broadway show.

There it was. Something to do on a Friday night. A really amazing date that I would never be able to afford on my own. But my stomach cramped up and for a moment, I thought I was going to throw up. I was conflicted about wanting to have something to do, but being PETRIFIED of ever dating again after having my heart completely smashed. I talked it out with my co-worker, and I decided I just couldn’t. I had to face my fear and instead of frantically texting people to find something to do, I had to enjoy my own company for an evening. I texted the guy back and just told him the truth, that I just got out of a long-term relationship and was not up to dating at the moment. He texted me back that he understood, but I should know that I am a “super cool chick.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

I stopped by a Taqueria by my apartment which was pretty legit. They were watching “Ratatouille” in Spanish, and there were quincenera cakes everywhere. I got a burrito and a homemade ding dong or is that a ho ho (pictured above.)

My night home alone? It was pretty awesome. I played music and wrote until the wee hours. It wasn’t depressing or scary or lonely. It was actually, dare I say it, fun.