I was tempted to rest on my laurels. I had done 3 loads of laundry in 2 days after all.

And it was raining like a mofo here. In retrospect, if I had known how wet it was outside there was no way I woulda gone. It was a Sunday and I would need to make two public transport connections. But a dear friend of mine was packing up and moving to another state and this was her good bye party. If I had missed this one, I would have lost some serious friend cred in my group. Friend cred which often feels like it is already on shaky ground. And there was the fact that I hadn't done anything remotely social for over a week and had stayed in Friday and Saturday nights .

So I made myself go, although I had been lying in bed at 5pm. (I lie the opposite way so it doesn't feel quite so indulgent, plus I sleep better). It takes a big wad of focus for me to go out. I made myself a cuppa. I had about a 1/3 of a decent cabernet left. I poured it and tried to find something to wear. Although I now had clean clothes!, finding an outfit to wear to go out is sometimes a challenge. 

Most of my clothes are for comfort or practicality, and I don't have budget to go much outside that. Plus I seem to spill coffee or wine on anything nice. But I find a suitable shirt. Ironically, it is not one of the recently washed. It was only worn a couple times before I got a coffee stain on it. I realize I have this one high waisted skirt that I can pull over the shirt and it will hide the stain. 

I grew up more tomboy than anything else and often feel like I'm missing certain key female genes. I cannot paint a nail to save my life. I did not wear makeup until I hit 30 or so.  Before that, its application mystified me and I felt I had better things to spend my money or time on. I still usually only wear it when I go out but on a bad day, a little makeup can make me feel more alive. Perhaps it adds a bit of a mask to my already acting persona. It only takes 5 minutes or so to apply but I am already running late. 

An hour, two trains and a whole lot of wet later, I am at my friends with a bottle of pinot. They are leaving the following day so there is no furniture and we sit on the floor which is fun. My friend is a bit of a foodie and I had counted on food being provided, which is not the case. I hope the little bit of leftover mac and cheese I had will dilute the effect of the wine. This is the problem about going out. Unless I keep drinking a bit of wine, I will pretty much fall asleep - especially in a group. Or my conversation will resemble that of a catatonic. 

I don't get drunk but I pretty much drink the equivalent of a bottle of wine over the course of the evening. I have an ok time. I catch up with a few friends. I speak to some people I don't know well. I meet a gal from my home town. A lot of my friends are very direct. I can be sensitive and occasionally their words annoy me. I get cornered by a friend who has had her own depression struggles but is currently doing really well. She gets after me for not exercising and for no longer going to therapy. I try to respond to these scolds but I've had a bit of wine and I just agree. I know she is planning a trip to vegas for a big birthday and although I wouldn't go, I'm a little sad she hasn't invited me. Another friend drives me home. 

I wake up at 12:21 pm. With a little headache. Some of that time was spent snuzzling with Nigel, not sleeping. I'm not really hung over just tired. Today is going to be a wash. Being social takes so much out of me. I almost don't think it is worth it but then a week goes by. I don't want to isolate myself.