It could be quite easy to sum up this three-day holiday weekend. Satisfying and consequently depressing.
Had a birthday party Friday night, hangover Saturday morning, a Sunday invigilation, earned 3000, an extra morning to sleep late and spent the rest with movies, lots of movies.
I feel unconsciously happy in the birthday party and so touched by everything you've done for me. Lots of old friends and new ones coming, the cake, hugs and kisses, gifts and cards, drinking and dancing. I was surrounded by friends, at bar or in the club. Strangely I felt sad after the bash.
The following three days I felt a great deal of selfish solicitude for my conscious solitariness. It could be the overwhelming happiness that came over me, so consummate that it consumed the residual warmth.
You mentioned the postcards I sent when traveling alone. "Table for one, please'. Hopefully it would probably become a fashion. Dining alone, drinking alone, dancing alone. Traveling alone in this sense would not be so antisocial.
We're single, proudly and with dignity.
I listened 11 times of Matthew Perryman Jones's "Amelia".