My eyes are fat and gluggly with mascara and I have glitter all over my hair and hands and face from the man who sprayed glitter hairspray all over me. It was too much effort to clean it up last night ad too much effort again today. I am tired and very slightly thirsty. I have been for hours.
At two, or was it three, this morning I was trapped in suburbia with XXXX Gold in a can and only the prayer of a taxi. I made it home without falling asleep or finishing my beer. I was not allowed to drink in the cab but the driver was amused by my humour. He seemed to like my money too. I fed the beer to a plant and the can to a bin. Even drunk I recycle.
I spent an evening awkward and diffident. I relied too much on alcohol and painkillers to get me through. I don't know why these people affect me like this. I am never easy with them. I always feel the fool. So awkward and strange. A stupid country cousin. A child I barely recognise. They are easily offended by my wit - such as it is - in the way of nice people who say nice things or nothing at all.
I wanted to run down and make holes in the green. I had elaborate plans for traps and golf shoes. I could not give it my all in that crowd. I was lonely. I always am with them. I do not share their stories, their history, except that I do but it does not become me. I find I have nothing to say and I keep saying nothing. In other company I do okay. I wonder if I accidentally exclude in the way they do. It cannot be so, I haven't a clique. I walked out on that thirteen years ago next month and I've never revisited the theme.
It takes too much alcohol to build my courage and too much energy to bite my tongue. After several years of seeing a lot of them I've spent several years away. The awkwardness of acquaintance for those without the gift of easy and constant friendliness. How tiring. How very, very sad.