Second thoughts are common after a night of tequila

Originally I had planned on deleting the post below. Let's just call it embarrassment born from the realization that one should never, never, never post after one has had two tequila shots and a very strong margarita before bed.

Then I decided to leave it, as a reminder that while drinking your troubles/frustrations away may seem like a good idea, it is not necessarily the best course of action. Especially when you need to be up and functioning at 6 a.m. the next day.

What set me off was the movie TBD, Megan and I saw last night. I had decided a few months ago when I saw a preview for it that Knocked Up was going to be one of those cute, girly movies I had to go check out when it made it to the theaters. Some of my female friends agreed but since it had come out, I hadn't been able to find anyone to go with me. I was under the impression TBD wouldn't want to go (considering our history). I mean, really, how ironic would that have been for us to see that movie together?

But he surprised me and said he would go. I owed him dinner so we planned that for the night too. He texted me unexpectedly in the middle of the day to tell me Megan, his latest girl, would be joining us and did I mind. I replied back with an emphatic no (Megan is a very cool girl who I get along with very well). Then I got it into my head to message HM about open mic night at one of the local watering holes. Was he going? I figured if he was, I'd drop in after the movie. Surprisingly, he responded. He had band practice but maybe would be there? He'd call me after if he was going.

I got pretty freaking excited.

The movie was cute. And funny. And made me cry, luckily not until I got into my car, but the tears still flowed. Unfortunately I couldn't chalk it up to being hormonal. This stemmed from my recent thinking along the lines that maybe I might be ready to settle down. That I'd like to find someone to be with. And had I not take Plan B in November, I would be 7 months pregnant right now. Me. Pregnant. In years past that idea would have repulsed me to no end. Now though...well...now I'm ready for it. And each day I get a little more convinced that it's not going to happen. Maybe I'm just trying to protect myself from too much disappointment if the family with a white picket fence thing doesn't happen for me. I don't know. The fact that I never heard from HM didn't help matters.

But I digress.

After TBD, Megan and I parted ways I decided to go drown my sorrows before I went home. Two shots of tequila and a margarita later, I was feeling better. A little. Luckily my former part-time is not too far from the movie theater so when I walked in looking like hell, Craig knew something was wrong and hooked me up as fast as he could (there were other patrons around the bar) with the much needed alcohol. Former work buddy Theresa was on last night too. She saw things weren't kosher and stopped to talk to me. She reminded me that it's o.k. to feel that way but not to let it get me down. Love happens at the strangest times and even if it doesn't, no man is worth the pain and suffering. Deep down I knew she was right so I stopped my whining and soon put my misery out of my mind. The Jose helped too, of course.

This morning was a little ugly. I forgot how intolerant my body has become to shots of anything. After my coffee and bagel (best hangover food ever) I started to feel better. Until I remembered the post below.

Which now, I think, is staying up.