This weekend, my university spins up its annual dance of fantasy and fundraising known as Reunions. We have big ones; the Reunions at my alma mater last three days and are famously second only to the Indianapolis 500 on Budweiser's beer order bookings.
This will be my class's 20th reunion. I'm not going.
Unfortunately, this means that I'm doomed to deal with half a week or so of tsuris. I'm not going because given my current mental state and the state of my life, I'd make it perhaps half an hour before either leaving in a pit of black depression or trying intently to murder some drunken annoying bastard intent on explaining to me why their life was so fulfilled.
That's really the problem. I've seen the 20th reunion class at my university. The emphasis changes, sharply, from being about reliving the glory days to aggressively showcasing how successful and happy one is. Look, these are my 2.4 perfect children. This is the older and very successful me. This is my lovely spouse.
Or, 'yes, I'm absolutely married with children but I'm taking the time this weekend to get off on my own so I can really party! WOOHOO! Isn't it great pretending to be single?'
Either one would, pushed with enough verve, provoke me to attempted murder at this point. And I guarantee: while my class isn't that large by university standards, it sure as hell contains more than its fair share of stereotypical success junkie assholes.
So no matter how many people I saw that I might want to see, I'd be sure to have to put up with a torrent of those others. Because one of the things they can't resist (and I know this from experience) is finding someone who isn't wildly successful and isn't incredibly happy with their lives - because just being around those people makes them feel better about their own existences.
Like I said, murder.
The problem is that a bunch of my friends are all now in full 'what do you mean you won't be there!' mode. And no matter how hard I try, I cannot get them to understand that not only would being there be a bad idea, but their insistent nudging to be there and the need to respond politely to them is exacting much the same sort of cost.
Because all of them are happily married, have kids, etc. and will be there either because they're proud of their families or because they'll be demonstrating how happy they are by loudly declaiming that this weekend is their 'escape from the family' - an escape they'd never consider other than in this artificial realm of Perfect Excuse for a Temporary Pass.
Yeah.
This weekend is going to suck, even if I sit at home and field snide references via Twitter and SMS.