I’ve had a couple revelations today.
One of which, is that, I have no girlfriends. There are girls to whom I speak, both at work and at play (read: bar) , and I get on with them quite well, but no one I could call a close friend. A best friend. I thought I had a best good love-me-forever girlfriend, but once the Mr. got sick, I realized how sorely wrong I was. I wish I could say I’m not bitter. But I am.
Also, I have realized that you will be given nothing more than you can handle. And if you are? Well, there’s medication for that. It’s a comforting and disturbing thought, all at the same time.
As an aside, I have realized I am a complete tool when it comes to following written instructions. So, I have signed myself up for a crochet class. I hope that this does not make me realize that I am just a complete tool that has no chance at learning crochet.
When you have no girlfriends, you need a hobby.
Right now? Colbie Caillat and my new stemless wine glasses (complete with sweet pucker-y white whine, I mean, wine) from the Mr. are my girlfriends:
I can’t possibly be the only who noticed how many of her songs on her CD relate to the drinky.
Perhaps, I can.
Keep your friends close. You never know when they’ll be gone.