The weekend began with such promise. Though worn out from a work week of moving the business from one location to another, working feverishly to keep to "business as usual" all the while, I kept my meet-up reservation promise and went to the Pride Festival on Friday night.
I was a bit subdued as a companion who had promised to join me backed out at the last minute, but I solidered on and wound up having a fantabulous time. It was great to be out among all the revelers, seeing all the performers, drinking a damn tasty mojito, and blowing bubbles with a light up bubble blowing gun.
By the end of the evening my moodiness had eeked from my body and I found myself even looking forward to Saturday's lunch with Mom, a cousin, and her seven year old grandson. Please know, of course, I love my mom it is just that she isn't the most companionable dining partner. And when others are in the mix, she is even less so.
Lunch was lovely.
And then there was Sunday. The event of this day I looked forward to most of all. I passed on attending the parade, which has become a tradition, to attend the event. I bought an outfit and accessories, which if you know anything at all about me, you know that is monumental.
But, it was not to be. My companion who was also my ride drank herself into oblivion last night and was not in any position to drive two blocks let alone the extensive ride to the event location. I've been angry all afternoon. I'd hope to pound out said anger by pounding some tennis balls. All that served was a reminder that I hadn't hit a tennis ball in over 50 weeks.
The soak, the nap, and dinner has diminished some of the anger but none of the disappointment. I wish I could say I'm happy for the good times of Friday and the pleasantness of Saturday and that those supercede the disappointment of today. But I can't.
Not yet, anyway.
P.S. To my friend, congratulations to your girls and have a safe trip.