When I rouse after 10, I take a scary look at myself. Do I shower first or video call Handsome Chris just like this? I voted for just like this. Part of going out to a noisy, sweaty bar is dealing with the after effects. Part of being in love with someone is loving them even when they are a hot mess.
Some keen observations from Captain Obvious this morning: I am still wearing the clothes I went to the bar in - changing seemed like a huge effort at 1:30 am. I am still in full make-up complete with the 'smokey eye', because, again, washing my face seemed like a huge effort at 1:30 am.
I feel yucky and my teeth are covered in a disgusting mossy grossness because, again, brushing my teeth at 1:30 am seemed like a huge effort. My hair is so full of product I look like a 1982 hair commercial. I speak quietly to H.C. as I slowly make my way to the kitchen for coffee. I pour a cup and settle into my comfortable chair, the one that feels like a hug.
This morning, I could use a hug, but he is there and I am here. What are you doing, Captain Obvious asks ... I am sitting very still. In my hug chair.
The question of Why raises it's head again. Why did I go out, when going out results in my Sunday being hijacked by the aftermath? I vow I will not go out again, in the traditional 23 year old sense of the word.
I prefer time with my friends, on a deck, with good food and excellent wine, soft jazz in the background and kids catching fireflies in the yard - and the ability to enjoy the morning after.
Cheers to experiences that lead to self awareness and a happier, more content life.