Wow oh wow, I woke up in a funk Saturday morning. Of course I’d had a few (10) wines the night before, but not enough to warrant to glumness I felt.
Sure I’d lost my purse the night before, but in typical Ashleigh Hitter style, something as awful as that usually seems to turn itself around and I half expected to find it in my denim jacket that morning. The thing is, I didn’t and my friend Josie the hero went and asked at the cheese festival (yes, I’m so on brand) whether they had it and they didn’t…. shit, fuck.
The thing is that wasn’t the reason I felt shit, I just did and sometimes that’s how life comes and kicks you in the balls.
It was the weekend, not that weekends are really a thing at the moment because I don’t have a job. My friend from England was here and making me the happiest girl alive and we were going to a party that night. I had coco pops for breakfast. Kirsty, Rhi and I were snuggling on the sofa.
It was all there…. all the ingredients for happiness, but they didn’t quite seem to mix together right to make me actually feel it.
I went for a walk and it started to rain, yes raining in Melbourne, in Spring. Then I dropped my back-up purse and everything fell out, then I realised I couldn’t pay my phone bill direct debit as I’d taken all my money out of my account. I’d been very teary all morning, but it just spiraled. All I wanted to do was talk to my mum, but that’s not too easy when you’re half a world away.
I knew I’d feel better the next day and if not then a few days after that, but I just couldn’t shake it. So I decided to give in to it, have a day in bed drinking wine, reading my book and having a little cry. Then I got myself up, put my face on and headed to the party. Being around people always makes me feel better, but sometimes you can’t get rid of the niggle, that’s life I suppose.
Sometimes you see all the fun and the laughter and happy ever after, but we all know I choose the parts of my life I want everyone to see. For every 12 fuck-ups I have a day, I pick the funniest/most dramatic one to share. Sometimes I show my vulnerabilities, but sometimes (like Saturday) it was just too hard you know and I think that’s okay too.
Here’s to the shit days and knowing they are only temporary.
Here’s to mum always making everything better.
Here’s to friends who buy you crisps and cookies.
Here’s to drinking wine at 2pm.
Here’s to cuddles, the best ones, that are long and meaningful.
And finally, here’s to the man who found my purse…. I knew the little twat would show up somewhere.