Nooo… It can’t be…

A few months ago, while in the shower, I was sickened by the sudden realization that it was 2006 and that my 25th high school reunion should be coming up over the summer. My mind whirred as I calculated how much time I would have to lose weight, get in shape and renew my attitude (I was much more outgoing 2 1/2 decades ago!). Crap, not much. The only way to lose a quick 50+ lbs would be to lop off my legs.

Would the reunion be as soon as June? I made a note to check the online "reunions" section of the local paper.

For the next couple of weeks, I religiously scanned the reunions section – no mention of my Class of '81. In fact, there were NO 25th Anniversary announcements. Maybe the Gods were on my side and I would actually have another 5 years to get back into my fighting weight. (Of course, I've had other opportunities to do this – I attended my 10 year reunion, then skipped the 15 and 20 year reunions…)

The summer quickly passed and I figured that I was safe. Phew.

Then, as the calendar flipped to September, the mailman brought the dreaded invitation… Sure enough, somebody was working on a reunion (of course, it was the cheerleaders… damn them to hell!), scheduled for the end of the month.

Panic immediately set in. I'd have to lop off my arms, too.

No, no, it would be impossible to attend an event of this magnitude without any of my limbs. Who'd do my hair?

I was surprised at the clarity and swiftness of my response – nope, I won't be attending. Period.

While it's true that I liked some of my classmates, I hated high school. I was a wallflower, whose confidence was fragile to begin with but only got worse as the years went by. My little clique disowned me for reasons I can't remember during my senior year (you know how high school drama can be – especially when hormones have yet to gel firmly). In hindsight, I'm not sure anyone remembers – since I was welcomed to sit at "their" table at the 10 year reunion.

Kids.

But is it worth $35 to put myself in a position that would only serve to make me feel bad? Everyone will be married (a few will be divorced and maybe remarried), have kids (probably a few grandkids, too), exciting careers, full lives. I'm perpetually single, barren and stuck in a dead-end job. While I would prefer that these things were different, the fact is that they have all been my choices based upon decisions I've made.

Skipping tonight's reunion is another choice.