This coming weekend, I’m going to do something I have not done in a long time.
No, I’m not going to start exercising (am hoping I’ll never have to). Neither am I going to spring clean my room (though that is definitely long overdue).
Before you set off to come look for me with clubs and fire torches because you’re dying of suspense (only in my over imaginative mind), I will tell you what.
This weekend, I’m going to drink myself into such a state where I won’t be required to think other than giving the cabby directions to send me home. Why, you ask?
Because it’s a party finale for bff K, who will be leaving for two years to work overseas. When she eventually returns, we might have aged so much the only thing we want to drink is herbal tea. It’s also been a long time since we binge-drank because we’re now *ahem* sensible ladies.
Because I don’t wanna think of what my life would be without her.
Because I’m mad at someone (ok this someone is X ok I admit). I’m mad because it seems like he gave me an available slot in his busy life yet he cannot commit to it because we might have something important coming up. I don’t even want to know who’s the we. Then don’t give me anything. The thing I hate most is for someone dangling something in my face then snatching it away. This applies to everybody FYI. Yes I’m unreasonable like that but I think I’ve been tolerant enough.
Because I’m mad at myself for allowing the above to happen to me. It’s not like I’m pug ugly or desperate or have a face only my mother could love. So many in the world, so why him?
Because I asked for it, therefore I bear the consequences. But I’m still miffed that he’s doing all this.
Because not only do I have these to grapple with, I’m frustrated with work. With some other people around me. With the heavy burden I have. With the general unfairness in this world. With my fucking condition which refuses to get better. So since I can’t make it better, I’ll make it worse by drinking. At least I’ll be happy in the process. In case someone out there is thinking Woah it must be that time of the month, I assure you it’s not.
And that’s why this weekend, I’m gonna put on a pretty dress, put on my best party face, dust off my favourite dancing shoes (though I don’t really get on the dance floor) and drink myself into a stupor. A happy one.
Because I think I deserve to be happy.
Because. Just fucking because.