It may surprise you that when someone mentions any kind of party to me, I’m relieved. Do you know why? Because I know that I don’t have to go to the party. I’m an adult now. I have my own job, my own money, and my own condo. When I was a kid, I was forced to go to parties. And not just parties. I had to go to church. I had to go to pep rallies. And once my mother dragged me to a circus, which was the single worst experience of my life, and not just because I’m deathly afraid of clowns. I don’t want to go into all that. Let’s just say I don’t like it when people are behind me, and leave it at that.

Tomorrow I’ll probably go to the Christmas party. I say “probably” because I don’t want to make any more public promises that will cause me to panic. I’m trying to relax about the whole thing. I’ll probably go to the party, and I’ll probably talk to Jane, and I’ll probably throw up in a plant. Besides, the Sci-Fi channel might have Battlestar Galactica reruns, and I wouldn’t want to miss that.

The party is at the CEO’s gazebo. If I go to the party, here’s what I need to do:

  • Arrive early and explore the area to avoid surprises. 
  • Take dramamine.
  • Make sure I sit down next to a wall so that no one can walk behind me. This will help reduce my heart rate to that of a jackrabbit.
  • Make a list of things to talk about with Jane. I’m currently reading about birds.
  • Don’t have more than one drink. Some people say alcohol relaxes them, but it has the opposite effect on me. I lose my inhibitions a little bit, but as soon as I act on impulse, I become intensely aware of my behavior. So no more than one drink, two tops.

Now that I think about it, I’m better off just talking to Jane at work.

Isolation score: 3