WORKING ON NEW YEAR'S EVE

`````I am working tonight---not that I care. I find New Years Eve probably the most depressing of all the holidays going. Years ago I was babysitting for my Aunt and Uncle, as they were out with my parents and other friends of the family. There used to be a big dinner and dance which they all attended. I had done the obligatory counting down of the ball as it dropped, then found myself hunting around for something to watch. It was amazing how many times they could play the same movie over and over again. They seemed to be extra late getting home, and I soon discovered why.

`````When they finally walked through the door, I saw that they were not joyful and festive. Their eyes were sunken and downcast. While at the party, their friend had suffered a heart attack and died. Somebody had tried to perform first aid, but it had not helped. He had been healthy and had a physical job, yet there had been no warning signs. Of course, I was a teen at the time and he seemed ancient. He wasn't. He was such a funny man, who used to go camping with us sometimes. His wife and kids were also superb.

`````I've never been one for public displays of affection, and New Years is all about getting up close and personal. Not only am I expected to watch others carry on, but it's considered good form to kiss and hug people that are almost strangers. I have a large personal space around me. I've been asked to seriously consider whether or not I might have Asperger's. Getting overly familiar just because a clock has chimed is not my idea of a good time, especially when a person is drunk. It's not a good mix.

`````I function best when impaired and given my migraines, I cannot drink. Trust me, I'm much more fun under the influence. If I could be messed up on a daily basis, I'd get a much higher job performance rating. But, it isn't legal. Parties when sober are no fun.

`````If I'm going to be really honest, the last New Year's party I went to was ages ago, back in the blackout days of my troubled eating. Thanks to that, I still remember the bathroom stall everytime I hear the song "New Year's Day" by U2. It really was one of those epiphany moments. I had gained weight and thought I was obese, as I was up to a gigantic 92 pounds . This meant that drastic measures had to be taken, so I went out that day and ate nothing except some wonton soup at the Green Door. The fact that I remember this shows how crazed I was. The Green Door was in Chinatown, and had to be reached by going up a back alley which stank of urine. It was famous for its wonton, though getting there was risky. The inside of the restaurant featured only picnic tables.

`````The other item that I consumed that day was diet pop and stimulants. God only knows what those pills were; speed of some sort. One dollar each. Needless to say, the health risks for a person of my weight weren't great, especially when I went and walked the entire day to burn off that one bowl of soup. I then went to my friend's place, changed, and went out to dance. Now requiring more energy, I took more "medication." This is where the toilet comes into play. I began to feel odd---very odd. My stomach felt as though my intenstines were being twisted into knots. I found myself on the very dirty bathroom floor, vomiting. There was nothing to come up, of course.

`````I realized the irony of it all; I had lost weight to make myself feel better about things. So that I could fit in and feel more glib and talk. It worked for a while. Then I isolated myself. And here I was, in the toilet, all alone.

`````So, I hate New Years. I think about everybody who has died, every last way I've screwed up, etc. I'm going in to work early, so that somebody else can go home and have a good time. I just hope that I can avoid hearing that "Auld Lang Syne" song. It's a killer.