To make a long story short, I got it into my head that a surprise dinner party had been organised me. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks. I’d worked out what I was going to wear. I’d imagined how the night was going to unfold. Drinks at a pub, dinner at my favourite restaurant, French champagne, dancing into the night, laughing till my sides hurt and a drunken stumble back to my hotel room, where’d I’d wake up a little hungover, but happy. Giggling at the silliness of the night before.
Yesterday, the day arrived and nothing happened. I’d got my wires crossed. I’d got excited about an event I’d entirely planned out in my head. No-one else was coming except me. It was all one big case of mistaken expectations.
Let’s just say I sobbed embarrassingly, I took myself to bed early and had a pity party for one.
The problems with pity parties are they are lonely, they are selfish, they are hurtful to those around you and they do nothing except make you feel crappy. No-one else is to blame or should feel bad about this whole predicament. I created this entirely on my own. It was my own stupidness that put me in this position. Even writing this post is a waaah fest.
So, today I decided to do a runner on my self absorbed, petty, spoilt self. Yep, that’s right I left my own pity party. To be honest it was shit anyway. If it was a real party there would’ve been Nickelback and Roxette playing, platters of Kraft cheese cut into cubes, punch bowls full of warm tropical paint stripper tasting liquid and there’d be a person telling me in detail about their kid’s sleep routines. I did what any right minded person would do, I pretended I had to go the toilet and legged it out of there. I got the hell out of my own pity party and ran.
Instead, I snuggled in bed with my girls, washed my sheets (because clean sheets are the best), cleaned the house, made choc-chip banana muffins with my 6yo, watched Dora with my 3yo, played Angry Birds with my 5yo and gave my husband a big hug. I see a trip to the park in my near future followed by a glass of wine in the backyard. I have no real problems, I just create them in my head.
Last night, while I wallowed in my own bullshit, a boat of asylum seekers sank off the coast off Indonesia wiping out entire families.
It just confirmed to my shallow self that my pity party was just that, pitiful.
Sure, there are some larger issues than our own, always will be. Doesn’t mean you don’t get to wallow once and while. I’d feel devastated too! Only thing to do here is come to Melbourne for a not so secret dinner party xx
I have wept over disappointing birthdays. TOTALLY. And honey, I would go out to dinner with you ANYTIME. Bring it!!!! xxxxxx
I’m glad you left the party – positive of the whole thing – it made for an entertaining read. My wallow is me rolling around in the quilt (wishing I had a king size bed), not taking phone calls (but before the phone rings feeling lonely), keeping the curtains drawn so I can’t see the sunshine outside that other people (damn, stupid, contented people) are enjoying (imagining being somewhere far away), and always rests with me wanting to win lotto!!! I always feel entitled during and indulgent after. I think it’s normal though. Enjoy your week. x