Today I was in a funk. I simply felt ill over my life in general. All I wanted to do was sit on my couch and feel sorry for myself, but I had my EWI fried chicken lunch to go to. I picked myself up and tediously did my hair and make-up before heading to the train.
Lunch was nice, but I wasn't on, I still couldn't shake the feelings eating away at me. I rode down to Union Square, but with the icy wind blowing and the knot in my stomach, I simply rode past my stop and hopped on an uptown bus heading home.
H had invited Y and I to join her on a Midtown beer crawl, all I wanted to do was sit at home and sulk, I don't even like beer. Y texted me to let me know he would be joining her, then she texted me to remind me which bar I could meet her at. I begrudgingly slid off the couch and headed out. "Do one thing each week that you really don't feel like doing", well, at least I could check that one off my to do list. "Just an hour or two", I told myself, "then I can come right back home and wallow".
Well, the beer tasting was fun. I tried a few brews that I actually found palatable, I avoided the lecherous stare of one of her older friends and I met a delightful young woman Y had brought along. We laughed and talked about everything from careers to college sports.
Y mentioned that he was meeting his girlfriend and her brother downtown at "the best Mexican restaurant in Manhattan". I was intrigued. He invited me along and I surprised myself by saying, "Why not?"
Mexican Radio was just off the 6 train on Spring Street. After the fried chicken feast and long line of brews, I couldn't imagine eating anymore food, and my waistline certainly did not need anymore! I thought, "I'll just have a cocktail and split". Wrong again. Y's girlfriend had brought along yet another charming woman and soon we were all sipping Sangria and chatting like old pals. I threw caution to the wind and ordered along with them. The food was fantastic, but the conversation was even more delicious.
After saying our goodbyes and walking to the train, I felt light. The funk had dissipated and a smile played on my lips. I spent too much money and ate too much fat, but it was a small price to pay for salvation from the depths of my own murky melancholy. I feel as though I fought the funk, clawing my way out of the rubble, finally emerging into the light. Booze, fattie foods and good friends; who knew these vices would be the krypton I needed to fight the super monkey on my back?
No comments:
Post a Comment