Not feelin' the love

Proportion of body completely soaked by sudden manifestation of monsoon weather en route to favorite bar: 50%

Number of people I had to wade through en route to favorite bar: 5 million (well it feels like it! My god, don’t people have to work?? There are too dammed many people in this country.)

Number of tables left when I arrived: 0. Argh, argh, argh. I may have actually wailed when they told me as my dress dripped on their carpet. Maitre’d took pity on me and found me a table to share. .Had to perch uncomfortably on bar stool and share a table with two girls who kept giving me pitying looks and pronounced chocolate as ‘chorklat’ and sounded like they worked in admin. God, pity from HR, I have sunk to new lows.

Number of times I checked my watch: 28, give or take 5 gazillion.

Number of pages read while I waited: God bless the public library- 43 (I read faster than that, but I suffered from a Pavlovian peering at the entrance hopefully every time someone walked in).

Number of martinis abandoned: 1. Damnit.

Pity discount given b waitstaff who wrongly thought I got stood up by a date? Yes.

Number of awesome sandwiches consumed: 0.

Number of times I ducked into a public toilet to indulge in a small (massive) amount of self-pity: 1

Dinner eaten: None

Level of disillusionment with being back: Total.

Schlumped on the bus, I continued the winning trend of robust self-pity by going petulantly to sleep. You wouldn't think that falling asleep could be done petulantly, but I assure you that it's possible. You simply close your eyes decisively in a squinchy sort of manner and mentally broadcast the fact that you hereby shutting off the world because it SUCKS and you are doing so by inducing unconsciousness SO THERE. Then you attempt not to dream of happy fluffy things because that really messes with the huffy vibe you're trying to project.

I'm having the worst sort of luck when it comes to catching up this trip back. Do I have something horrible caught in my teeth? Am I suffering from the social form of leprosy? People are actually leaving the country. They are crossing oceans rather than meet up with me. It’s hard not to take it personally. Even making plans with my sisters been difficult, and we live in the same house, for crying out loud.

The cumulative effect of all this has led to not inconsiderable depression re my apparent social pariah status Let’s face it: the festive season makes you lonely and a little crazy. That’s why the suicide rate spikes. The logical part of my brain knows it’s all bad timing and coincidence and it’s just that crazy time of the year where people who have actual jobs (i.e. almost everyone other than me) go all mad hamster trying to fulfill all their commitments in the nonexistent free time they have. But that stupid teenage part of my brain, the part that was responsible for my ridiculous crush on the orange haired boy (no judging!) years ago is going hell for leather in the whole "Slinky,you suck" department.

Right now my ego's just about strong enough to withstand gentle breathing, so I think I’m just going to hole up at home for a while with a tub of Ben N' Jerry's and sulk for a bit. And do exciting things like, stare into space and get drooled on by The Fuzzy.