friendship is rare

Guys. I was so down about how all-around gross the Percocet was making me feel, I forgot to revel in what was in all honesty a pretty awesome weekend.

Friday morning I met up with a friend who is leaving the area. We grabbed coffee and a croissant (her) and tea and a chocolate croissant (me) from our local grocery co-op. Then we sat outside for awhile and just talked about all kinds of things. It was great to see her, especially since she’s going to be time zones away. Since she’ll be driving nearly across the country with two small-ish children, I hope she has a safe and not too stressful trip.

Friday afternoon, after lunch with my boss and a former employee, I left work early to take a nap. This, friends, was a concession to the psoriatic arthritis. I knew that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have had enough energy to go home after a full day of work and sit on the couch. So, I napped. And it wasn’t one of those terrible naps; you know the ones. You fitfully doze in and out of sleep and wake up hours later feeling more exhausted than when you started. This was an awesome nap.

Anyway, a few hours later I woke up and my husband made me a lovely mug of tea with some honey. Somehow, he knows better than I do how much honey I take. Whenever I make it, it’s always too sweet or not sweet enough. But, that aside, I make some of my delicious Caesar salad with the homemade dressing and headed out to a friend’s apartment.

Now, apparently since I left my part-time retail endeavour a few weeks ago, a ton of people have quit or will be quitting. (I won’t lie; this fills me with just a smidge of malicious glee.) So, one of the few that are left decided to host a potluck and invite a bunch of people from the job.

It.

Was.

Awesome.

Ironically enough, when I was working that job (plus my 40-70 hour per week full-time gig), I wouldn’t have had time to hang out with all of my great co-workers. But I was there, laughing and joking and chatting it up with a bunch of lovely people. I was one of the first to arrive (around 7 p.m.) and one of the last to leave (around 2:30 a.m.). I don’t think I can overemphasize how impossible it would have been for me to a) be up that late, b) been engaged with that many people and c) felt as normal as I did had I still been working two jobs. Even so, I felt pretty luck that my PsA decided to take a hike for the night.

Sure, I paid for it the next day and the next, and I’m still paying for it. Sure, I paid for it the next day when I couldn’t even handle 1.5 hours at the mall with another friend from out-of-town who was visiting. (Seeing her was wonderful as well.) But it was totally worth it. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Seeing people other than my co-workers and , as much as I love him and love spending time with him, my husband was pretty restorative and made me feel more like myself than I have in a long time.

So, here’s to a great weekend with lovely friends and all of the things we do that may hurt in the short-term but are so worth it in the long run.

(Image via We Heart It.)

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3 thoughts on “friendship is rare

  1. I had a chuckle when you said you leaving triggered a mass exodus of sorts. I’ve been in that situation too, so I get how redeeming that can feel. Hope your recovery from the party is quick. Sometimes it is worth it to deal with a flare-up in order to have some much needed fun.

  2. Exactly! While not exactly conventional, a good night with friends may sometimes be the best medicine.

    Also, revenge by not doing anything, is sweet. šŸ˜€

  3. Percocet SUCKS. I much prefer Vicodin or Xanax for that matter. You see, Vicodin numbs me while I’m completely aware of my situation while on Xanax, I just don’t give a shit. Percocet makes me hallucinate and after I had surgery I decided that I’d rather be in pain. I’m messed up enough as it is… I don’t need drugs to enhance my already effed up life.

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