Spring's sprung

I could practically smell the spring before I'd even yanked the window up. There is was, a low gold over the grass and the banks at the back of my house.

Stripping my bed, I separated the poppers and took apart the two layers of my duvet. A proper spring ritual. In winter, the layers come together to swaddle. In the spring I lie on top of one, and under the other. I blast myself with cold water at the end of a shower, I can be brave enough once again. 

Last night I drank two beers and two shots of Tequila. I never really have shots but I licked that fatty bit in between my thumb and index finger, covered it in salt, took back the tequila, bit into the lime and then danced. Taking it back in one go, and moving to the dancefloor with free hands made me feel purposeful. I felt like I only had two moves and wanted to mix it up. I watched my friends. Gus was doing this really cool thing with his arms, I can't really remember what it was, but it looked like a dance you could do in 1984 or 1996 or 2017 and it would be right for each. Soon I let go and danced and danced and danced, and thank god the music got better after Yas requested Diana Ross. I was so sweaty that when Aisling leaned in to kiss my cheek I lurched back, not wanting to feel anyone else on my wet skin. I was wearing my fake leather green skirt and it was sticking to my legs, I was tossing my hair about, marching back and forth to the free jug of water, sometimes sticking my body under the glorious air vent by the DJ's booth. 

After a sequence of 6 or 7 wonderful Rhythm and Blues songs, the DJ put on Mr Brightside and the whole floor groaned but Joe threw up his hands and shouted to the opening so we followed because we saw it was easier not to resist. Before we knew it we were really red-faced and enjoying this turn of events. 

I hung my washing up in our back yard this morning because it would be rude not to on the FIRST DAY OF SPRING! The air out there smelt like Ecover and June. 

In this week's pottery class we couldn't find any cling film to wrap our wet pots with, and Ben said he needed to go on a "plastic hunt" but it didn't sound like "plastic hunt" when said aloud and we laughed. I laughed and laughed a bit longer. Sometimes my laughter comes out much louder than others' and I wonder if I'm showing off, but I'm not, it just feels really good to let it out.