How many entries has it been since I whinged about there being too many people in the world? Probably not all that many. I swear to gawd though, I wish I never had to step foot outside my little suburban block again. It's just too hard!
Actually, as I was walking around the grocery store this afternoon, I was doing pretty well. I had timed my visit just right. There weren't that many people around. In fact I didn't really start to think about the people around me and my social discomfort until I was nearing the last few aisles. I was going to make it through my entire shopping expedition without feeling too anxious. Yay me!
As I was unloading my trolley at the checkout, another shopper lined up behind me. She picked up a magazine to flip through while waiting. She then uttered a gasp of surprise. The checkout operator and I looked at her and she showed us a picture of Paris Hilton's huge engagement ring as an explanation for her gasp.
The friendly shopper began chatting about her husband and how he hadn't given her an engagement ring when they got engaged. He was at university at the time and as such money had been incredibly tight. She continued by mentioning how her husband was off work with a shoulder injury and how much of a sook he was when he was sick.
Our brief conversation carried on as we discussed how, in general, the male subspecies are all an incredibly sooky lot when they are not feeling the best. The conversation continued that is, until I finally snapped out of my daze and understood just who I was speaking to. The friendly shopper was in fact the local doctor's wife.
Quick explanation ... I live in a small town of a few thousand people or so. The local newspapers of late have run several stories on how our town has been left without a doctor for the hospital because he has been off work for a month due to illness and how the government health department has not adequately replaced him. In addition to this, last year wasn't one of my best years. During the first half of the year I took several medication overdoses. I therefore got to know both the local doctor and the interior of the hospital fairly well.
As soon as I clicked to who the friendly shopper actually was, an incredible wave of guilt overtook me. Lawd knows why really. She had no way of knowing who I was and why should I feel guilty anyway? I'm far from the first person in the world to take a handful of pills a few times to see if I could not wake up the next day.
Despite these couple of things, the guilt remains. Guilty of what, I'm not entirely certain. Do I feel guilty about taking the pills and thus wasting the hospital staff's time and resources? Do I feel guilty because of the hurt I caused my husband? Or is it because, somewhere deep inside me, I still wish that I had been able to do the job properly ... to have not woken up the next day. I don't know. I just can't feel anymore!
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