Preparing to go to your high school reunion is like finding out you’re going to die and suddenly you realize you haven’t done everything you SHOULD HAVE done.
In this case, how many of us are thinking – I should have gone to the gym more!
My friend and I are planning for the upcoming reunion. I finally confessed that I am turning into an obsessive-compulsive ball of anxiety. She emailed me back: “You, too?”
Then, she confessed. “You mentioned what to wear and just over the weekend someone else asked me what I’m going to wear. I hadn’t given it much thought and then I was thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, what the heck do I wear to this thing??’ I mean, I have a whole closet full of options but suddenly, nothing looks good or fits the way it should, even though I wear the bulk of these clothes on a daily basis to work, etc.”
She went on: “Then, it’s like, why haven’t I gone to the gym more often? (See what I mean?) And why do I have the biggest zit on my face NOW?”
We’re calling it BTHS Syndrome – Back To High School Syndrome. And it’s bringing out the awkward angst we thought we’d outgrown years ago and re-awakening two decades of dreams we’ve had about being naked at high school.
I was in a panic about two months ago because there are 50 – 60 pounds more of me now than there were back then. I spent six hours at several clothing stores trying on outfit after outfit just to decide that I liked what I had at home better.
But, yeah, that zit thing – what’s that all about? I told my friend, “YOU have ONE??? Geez, my whole neck looks like I had a pizza feast or something – and my chin and forehead are in competition to see how many pores they can clog.” I hardly had any pimples in high school. What gives?
My husband says that it’s stress.
Oh. Great. No, I’m not nervous at all! Can you just hear my voice crack?
My husband also says it’s not a Back-To-High-School thing. It’s a woman thing.
Hey, I resemble that remark. Just because I’m renting a U-HAUL for that Saturday so I can bring a few extra outfits just in case I change my mind, does NOT make it a woman thing. I just have to have something to fit my mood. And right now it’s fluctuating between excited anticipation, compulsive anxiety and sheer mania.
I figure I will just spin a wheel and whatever mood the ticker lands on that will decide what I wear. Hopefully, I won’t be going butt–naked.