I have some awesome friends. I really do. I don’t have many, mind you, but the few I have are just a blast to be around. And yesterday I got to hang out with one of them.
Socializing is such a double edge sword for me these days. On the one hand, I need it. I enjoy it. It makes me happy. In fact, sometimes it boils over into goofy-giddy territory. On the other hand, I’m usually wiped the next day. Or in pain. Sometimes it’s both.
I know I should probably take it easy. I should probably learn how to tone my excitement down a bit and do a little less than I’d like. But I’m not sure how to do that. And psychologically, I’m not sure I want to go there. You know. To ACT like a sick person. Because for a short time, my mind is not constantly on my illness or my struggles. Oh sure, I get the twinge of pain from my hips reminding me to sit down from time to time, or I have to interrupt our meal by rifling through my purse for pills, but for the most part, it’s a wonderful escape.
The alternative would be to have friends visit, and I’d be planted on the couch, inviting them to help themselves to a glass in the cupboard and something to drink, or explore my pantry for a snack that might appeal to them.
And that is so NOT who I am.
I keep coming up against that word.
I guess ultimately it’s going to be up to me to find a balance between pee-on-the-floor-puppy-like-excitement, and resigning myself to creating a permanent dent in the shape of my ass on the couch… hmmmmmm