As yesterday’s Facebook status will verify, I had trouble containing myself when “Kick Start My Heart” started. It was a welcome relief from the Spotify premium advert prior and in any case made me want to air grab and dance in front of people that couldn’t hear it. Unfortunately I was on the bus, on my way to work and in entirely inappropriate clothing. Nevertheless I felt amazing, I have just had the best weekend in a very long time and all I did was read, run, eat and do little else. My Monday feeling was totally, absolutely, the best. In contrast to those of my friends who were “coming down with a Monday” after “the best night ever” with the “most amazing people ever”. Followed by the “worst hang over ever” and needing someone to “drive to McDonalds” presumably because they were still too drunk at three in the afternoon to drive themselves. Now I’m no hypocrite, I’ve been there many times but at least now I know why I shouldn’t eat McDonalds and I don’t. “Everything in moderation” my Nan used to say… She was right you know. Don Henley reckoned those nights are places “you can never leave.” Maybe so for some. Pushing on makes a mockery of the idea of a good night. They tend to be places of endless anticlimactic flashes of time, with bouts of instant onset intermittent dementia that prevents incredibly important conversations (that incidentally no one cares about) meeting their momentarily important pinnacle (that your mate is itching to talk over to make their point). No one ever seems to peak, and sound fades away as the light seeps in past the curtains beginning to endorse an awkward lull. Everyone starts to prang out and whisper because the neighbours might hear. Because there is a dog two doors down that might bark if it hears us and wake the kids at no.7. Because well, because maybe now we have decided that actually, I am reluctant to listen to you now. You chat shit…So whisper!
I firmly believe that going to sleep before midnight at the weekend is perfectly acceptable. The only thing you actually miss is a sore head and a couple of bad days following. Since Sunday I have run at least 2 miles a day. I haven’t had a cigarette since New Year’s Eve. I’ve read every day this year. And I feel happier than I ever have.
I spent a little bit of time recently pondering friendships. I feel I have been demoted to Facebook friend status by friends who I had previously had meaningful friendships with. I understand that people have lives, and many people like to induce guilt on people with the “let’s see how many of you like this status” statuses. I don’t like to do this, I really don’t. Neither do I like those statuses. I am not sure if I am no longer friends with these people or if I have become a backup, a reserve #haveIbeenbenched. I stopped worrying because while scrolling I read this “some people aren’t supposed to stay in your life, but they can stay in your heart”. You may chat shit my friend. We may be different people now. But a friendship that was once real, if even only through a moment of instant onset dementia, was real then and will last for ever.