Lucky Girl

And now is the post where I count my blessings.

I love blogging. So many people have sent me kind and supportive words about break ups in general and my writing in particular. It's been heartening. I hope I managed to get back to you all, though I have a bad feeling I missed one or two.

I also love my friends. I love my friends who will run me through their family trivia about the movie White Christmas, ply me with sprinkle-topped soy hot chocolate and sing Sisters with me. I love my friends who make me Calm tea and let their toddlers loose on me for much needed cuddling and sweetness. I love my friends who will go to a mediocre Brit funereal comedy with me and then ply me with Guinness.

I love Guinness.

Loved just as much are the friends available by email and/or phone whenever I need them, and who send such strong hugs through the wires I can actually feel them.

Did I mention that Shelley is flying me to Halifax two weekends from now? She has promised a fire in the fireplace, port, a dog in my lap and good conversation. Jesus, am I ever lucky.

And not necessarily love, but some major appreciation out to Mark, Shelley's roommate, who answered the call I placed to her house seconds after Eric left Tuesday night, and listened confusedly but patiently to my wordless sobbing until Shelley picked up the extension and figured that the crying was me.

Less important ways that I feel lucky: I found a $20 in my pocket Tuesday morning; it rained but did not freeze on the drive to Stouffville this afternoon; I am in my mother's house but have a laptop that feels a little like home; I'm off work until the 2nd, back for two days, then on holidays for 4 again; there is no fifth thing; I'm sleeping and eating better than I thought I would.

Life could be much much worse. Though we'll see if I feel the same way tomorrow, when I have to start saying "No, we broke up. Yeah. Tuesday. Never a good time of year, I guess." over and over again.