Yesterday, I went to a friend’s retirement party.
I don’t know if I told you before but I am not into social gatherings.
Well, not anymore.
I used to.
For some reason, anxiety just grabbed a hold of me and won’t let go.
Maybe it’s insecurities, maybe I’m just not into anything that may lead into
me being humiliated or embarrassed.
I am not young anymore.
I am not hip with what’s new these days.
I say it’s progress because, I struggled with it all day,
and it took everything in me to buck up, get ready and go.
I fought with myself the whole way
from turning the car around and just forget it.
Make up some excuse for not going at all.
I did get there, eventually.
Saw other people.
Had conversations and jokes about everything.
Actually had a great time.
Plus, made my friend happy for showing up.
I carried myself well.
That’s progress for me.
It may be nothing to you,
but that is big for me.
I didn’t even feel the need to order alcoholic drinks just to fit in.
I wasn’t planning on drinking at all.
I didn’t need to pressure myself.
I was fine.
Though the only thing I had trouble with while I was there,
was ordering my drink for the night.
When the server asked me for my drink,
for some reason, I couldn’t pronounce “Arnold Palmer.”
Must be the Filipino in me.
My tongue just wouldn’t want to work it.
I guess saying it right will be my next progress report.
“UrrnnuldPulmur.”
Damn it!
I can’t do it!
