Friday night in Halifax

Last night I left work on time, headed to the mall to find a purple shirt and then headed home, to get my gym gear.  I packed my bag, went back out into the freezing cold and headed to the gym to do an hour (which ended up being 45 minutes total) of running on the treadmill.

I change out of my sweaty clothes, grab subway and head home, scarf down half my sub before heading into a steamy shower.  Now, it doesn't matter how many showers I have a day, it's one of the best parts of my day.  I like it hot, no cold water turned on at all by the time my body adjusts.  I took longer in the shower than expected.

Quickly check my facebook, as I decide between the two purple shirts I bought, and three of my favorite pairs of jeans until my look is right.  Add cologne, product to my hair, floss and brush my teeth and get the hell out of the house.  I stop at the liquor store, grab a bottle of gin and some mojos cause I hate mixing drinks at other's places.  Cross the bridge and am proactive and park in a parkade, because of the winter parking ban in the city.

I practically run the four blocks to South Street because of the bitter cold, wondering how homeless people would ever survive on the streets on a night like this.  And finally I arrive at my friend's place 45 minutes late; I easily would have been on time if I skipped the gym, but I am glad I stayed dedicated on a Friday night to my goals.

I get inside and the room has about 12 people all wearing purple shirts.  I quickly crack my first drink and jump into the conversations.  It's such an easy group of people to hang out with.  Everyone genuinely like each other.  There is no gossipping about each other behind anyone's back.  It's a group that just want to have a good time and enjoy each other's company.

At almost midnight we head out to a couple of bars, take in more drinks and dance for hours.   Music is pumping, people are smiling, making out, dancing on speakers... well my group are a little more tame, but it happens.  And around 4am I am just unlocking the door and dragging my tired ass to bed... Friday nights are good in Halifax!  And it's strange that here I am in this circle of friends that I didn't know a year ago.  I'm not their friend because I am someone's accessory.  I am their friend because they like me for me.  And that does more for this 32 year old's self-esteem than I can explain.

During my seperation I lost friends, who obviously were more my ex's friend than mine.  Looking back they liked me mainly because I was my wife's husband and that if it had just been me, then maybe we wouldn't have been friends at all.  It used to upset me that I was lost those friends, but now I have come full circle and have my own friends without any baggage and just out for a good time.  All part of the healing process.