Holy Hangover Batman

In a vain attempt to start my recovery from Brandon, my friends took me out Saturday night. These are coworker friends that just think I am so flippin’ cool, and I can’t really figure out why. As soon as I started at this job they all flocked to me…eagerly awaiting some sort of approval…like I am the Queen and they are lowly serfs. Anyhow, as I said, I don’t understand why. But now that their “queen” is hurting deeply, they took to action.

I did have a good time. We went to this really cool place in Kalamazoo. But I drink so infrequently that I am such a cheap date. We danced, which I haven’t done in a long while. I was hit on quite a bit, which was great for the ol’ ego boost that I need so badly. I was quite surprised, actually. I left with a few numbers, none of which I’ll ever call, but it’s nice to know that there are interested men out there. I’m choosing not to believe that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. There must be better ways to start to heal, right? I did not get trashed at the bar though…that came after we got back to the house. I think I needed it, too. I didn’t even think about Brandon sleeping next to another woman at all last night. Or wonder if he’s playing with her extremely young infant son. Or if he’s starting to fall in love with her. Didn’t think about my situation at all. It was fantastic. I didn’t drive home. Our Designated Driver drove me home, leaving my car at her house. I had a good time until I got home…and upon stepping into my house, I hear my son start to cry, and then I was jerked into remembering why I never ever drink…I have to be mommy.

And I had to be up bright and early to a) get my car and b) have my early breakfast with my friend Matt. I felt not so hot, but manageable. Breakfast went great. He’s a great guy who has such great ideals. He wants to move in together so bad. But I think he just wants to take care of me, which I have a problem with. I can’t move in with another man so damn fast…I cherished my time with Brandon, and I could never replace it with someone else so quickly. I miss him. So does my son. But even though I think Brandon has made a poor choice in not only moving out, but also moving in with her, I can’t do anything about it. We’re making sure that “the door is always open” for us to date again. I guess time will tell.