J came back from Nashville last night, all in one piece, apparently. He called around 9 and wanted to see me, but it was going to involve some crazy scheme whereby I’d have to drive over there, follow him to the car repair man, then either drive him back with me or leave my car in his garage or something; apparently, busting back and forth to freaking Tennessee leaves some hard miles on a car. Who knew.

I opted for the “no” side of that choice, and stayed home, nursing my blah-ness. My parents’ departure and J’s disappearing act have been stale bread sandwiching the continued idocity of my job and the early-March weather the sky’s spat back out. The “specials” chalkboard of my life this week has read a giant BLAH. Color, color, nowhere. Just a lot of grey that says, magda, go back to bed; a grey that says yes, crying will make it all better! (Lies! Terrible lies!).

I don’t know the cure for the blahs. They come and they go. A temporary fix, though? Cheese. And wine. And fresh and delicious seafood. Preferably all served together; preferably all from Washington; preferably all at the Washington State Society Dinner that is (so convenient!) tonight, in downtown D.C. I’ll be there, at my college’s alumni table, with one of my best home-state gal pals.

So no J again tonight, but really, I think that’s okay. And I’m kind of looking forward to it, in a no-I-don’t-secretly-want-to-break-up-with-him way.

To the blahs I say good riddance. Choosing happiness is so often the hardest part, but tonight, with wine as my side-kick, I’m making a comeback. Yes siree.