Today, the lovely Mrs Plug advised me that I have worked hard, and that I should relax for a few hours this afternoon. This was dangerous, as, by the time we had to get ready, I had switched off completely from life. I have an uncanny knack of being able to relax at the click of a finger. I think this skill was brought about by realising that both my Father and Grandfather were extremely prone to stress when I knew them, and both suffered from heart problems. I think somewhere deep within me, something has flicked a switch and said "Sod it....nothing is worth stressing about that much". I DO stress about work, but not in a "keeping me awake worrying" way....more like an "excitable child with another idea" way. Well at least I hope that is what is happening. I dread evenings like tonight, which is not to be rude to the host in any way shape or form, or to my fellow guests. I just feel a bit under pressure to perform and be fun, and I don't know why. I think also, deep within, there is a bit of a loathing for dinner parties. I think I associate them with the kind of people that I really do not care for, and as a result, dread them. Of course in this instance, all of the guests were delightful. I think it is just the anticipation of what might be rather than the reality. when I was younger, I used to look forward to events with excitement. There was a sense that only good things would come out of social events. Party's were anticipated with joy and wonder. Now however, I look forward to things in a different way. I assume that the event will be dull, and I will make an arse of myself. This is of course based on the many years of being young and looking forward to things that were always going to be awful when considering the evidence. After this evening, I will be dreading next week, when we are going to a Burns night celebration organised by Mrs Plugs cousin. I have never been to one before, we will only know two or three people there, and I hate strangers. I feel that in situations like this I either over compensate by trying too hard to be interesting and entertaining, and come across as a bit of a tit, or I just sit quietly in the corner grinning inanely and coming across as a total bore. Given these options, I would much prefer to go to bed with a good book on both occasions. In the event of course, the Murder mystery evening was absolutely fine. There were three people there who we didn't know, and three who we did, and it was a pleasant entertaining night all round. I even vocalised my nervousness to the friends at the end of the night, who all seemed surprised that I get like I do, but I think all drunkenly came to the conclusion that I was a bit of an arse.
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