Doing It Right

So, I am pleased that I managed the kind of weekend one is supposed to have. The kind where, at the end, you are significantly less troubled than you were at the outset.

After Friday’s cocktails with The Boy and friends, I woke to a nice, peaceful Saturday. I joined him for lunch at Mangia, and then left him to the writer’s circle and debate about his new play idea. I came home where, for the first time since before vacation, I finally managed to accomplish something around the hovel, vacuuming several puppies worth of fur and grit out of my carpet and finally, FINALLY, leading Mr. Mop on a dance around my kitchen.

I don’t know that I would have the Queen over, but I would totally allow my mother in my house again. Mission fucking accomplished.

Saturday night we went to Mai Lee, which is rapidly becoming one of my favorite restaurants around town. From there, the theater, to see Stop Kiss, a good play well acted, even if I had some issues with some directorial choices. Afterwards more drinks with more friends. You know, my informal resolution to drink more this year seems to be coming together nicely.

This morning, I worked for a few hours, and I could tell my weekend had worked because the completely asinine fucking conversation I had with one of my myriad bosses only mildly irritated me rather than sending me, as usual, into blinding rage.

And as soon as I finish this I’m going to eat cheese dip for dinner while watching Sense and Sensibility. Again. Why? Because I can. Because I am a woman, and I live alone, and I can do those things. Which is purely fucking brilliant, I think.

I just need to get rid of my second job so that I can do it more often.