Well, well, well... what have we here? A winter buffet? Why am I not surprised that you sneaked up on me like that? It's just like you to be all quiet and lurky and then to pop off the calendar the day before. I predicted that I'd have nothing to wear and I was right! I knew that I'd feel all large and unattractive... even more so than usual... on the day you'd come to town. I have a way of knowing these things. I even knew that mapping out my weight loss five weeks ago wouldn't do any good and that I'd panic the day of no matter what. Don't you ever learn?Is it that you don't care about me? Is that it? You know that I'm the type to just go anyway, right? Even though I'll feel all ugly and there will cameras there and everyone else will look all nice and be having a great time. Oh, I'll go, alright. Are you kidding me? I never get to go anywhere, so I'll go. And sure, I'll feel self conscience at first. And I'll avoid the cameras at all costs. And tomorrow or the next day when the photos go up on the company portal, I'll look through them in horror and, yeah, you might be able to spot the back of my big fat head in some of them. But, other than that, you'll have no evidence of me there.
After I'm there for a while and I'm chatting with all my work friends, many of whom I hardly see anymore because I'm always high-tailing it home to pick up kids at the end of the day, I might forget that I felt uncomfortable when I first arrived. A little music, a little champagne, an hors d'ouvre here and there. I'll start to have a good time. But at some point, maybe in the ladies room mirror, maybe in a reflection on the way out of the building, I'll see what I forgot about. And it won't be pretty. I'll see why I didn't want to go to the stupid winter buffet in the first place. I'll also see a reminder of why I'm on this dang journey to Shamrock. Because I so don't want to be the most uncomfortable person at the party anymore.
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