Too difficult a person

The last Tuesday saga: Attempts to find a last minute date failed miserably. It did not quite help that no one actually bothered to even try being nice. Feeling utterly sorry for myself, I snapped at anyone who might cross my path that day. I know I should not, but I was seriously too depressed to second process my actions and/or reactions. I was so upset, I actually felt like plonking myself in the middle of some vast plains and cry. Out loud. The chemicals were raging awry in the head. How hormonal can I get?

The chemical reactions only tamed when Ping told me she'd skip CG (although the thought of that made me guilty instead) for the show. She had to rush home after work, and meet me in Bugis thereafter, and even paid for her share of the tickets, although I offered it free. And no, I resorted no retorts or emotional threats. For all those trouble, I was just too grateful she'd even offer to come. The mood scaled higher when I received a call from E* later in the evening to ask if I'd need his company for the show. Nevermind the phonecall came only an hour before the show. By the end of the show, the crankiness in me pretty much got oiled and eased off. At least, I found no impending need to find a good field to cry in.

That's the magic theatres do to me. All I needed was a show and a company, and I am happy. It's simple, but oh-so-hard nowadays.

T* came by my cube at the end of the following day wearing his usual grin, offering to accompany me to the bus stop as an offer of apology for not being to take up my offer for the show. In between the usual wicked banters, I think he had something to tell me, which he did not. Until the next day.

He swung by my cube on Thursday and after some casual jesting, carefully asked, "Can you help me understand why you vented your anger at me and W* on Tuesday? We were not obliged to watch the show with you, right?"

I wonder how long it took him to craft that statement so as not to appear offensive, but it was still a smack on my face. He was dead right. No one was obligated to take my offer. 

I attempted nonchalance and brushed him off with talks of simply being hormonal.

That made me feel bad nonetheless. How willful have I been?


After church on Sunday, I was startled out of my daze by a car honk while passing by Adam Road hawker centre alone. It was T* and his friend after their lunch. I moped along after saying hi and bye. It was not a good idea to hold up traffic. Minutes later however, T* dropped me a message and asked if I'd want him to join me in town for tea. Behind my caustic replies, there was a tinge of appreciation at that offer. Been a long time since anyone would do a weekend afternoon tea with me. I waited for him to go home to change out of his tennis gears while I shopped around on my own.

We met again two hours later and decided to head to a tea cafe in Mandarin Gallery that I have been wanting to check out, but never had the opportunity to find good company to do so with. We found it at a quaint corner, and stood by the entrance for a good few minutes. The service staffs saw us, but made no attempts to engage us. In fact, it appeared to me that there were too many service staffs crowding at the counter giggling amongst themselves, they were blatantly ignoring us. I tucked T* on his sleeves, and told him we should leave.

In his usual grin, he asked me what was wrong. "Just wait lah!", he said with an even bigger grin, and went about prancing and waving for attention into their faces like a kid. "It's okay", he said with a glee that irritated me because I did not know how to respond in good balance between his chill manners and my foaming guts. Like being ignored was nothing. I seriously have no idea what he was made of. I shot darts at him. 

By the time we finally got some attention, the service staff directed us to a convenient table within the cafe along the corridor. T* spotted a window seat at the far corner that had just been cleared, and asked them if they could let us have it. I am dead sure I saw the eyes of the waitress roll as she asked her co-worker to go and clear the table. I was totally not impressed. I wanted to get away from them. Or them away from me, whichever works. But looking at T* beaming away in oblivion, it baffled me how he can remain blithe in the face of mean people. 

Despite the unpleasant episodes at the cafe entrance, it was decadent luxury for me whiling the afternoon away after we settled in, sipping tea and talking about nothing in particular that I can now remember over dessert. I only remembered the delights of T* and his friend (who joined us later) squealing over photos of half-naked A&F male models putting themselves on display in the streets that day. I sank with contentment into my seat. It was a good corner we were in.

By the end of the day, the dark clouds looming over my head was largely dispelled. I actually found myself in better spirits. It then dawned on me that I probably would not have enjoyed the Sunday  should I have insisted on throwing a tantrum and stomping away. For a while, I actually envied T*'s devil-may-care take on the people around. However, the lesser devil in me is also acutely aware that this means he is thoroughly insensitive, so I cannot be too sure which is good... Okay, I guess I am mulling too much again. Maybe I should really control the effects the un-controllables have on me.

As I am writing this, a MSN message from D* came in. He says I have been too hard on myself. We were just talking about my unwillingness to watch movies alone. Have I really been too difficult as a person?