Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner…

Posted on December 9, 2013

As I am in the midst of what I am calling a ‘Total Body Meltdown’ this holiday season, I thought it might be a smart idea to let you know who you’re inviting when you invite me to your dinner party. 

My health (and by health I mean my energy level and my ability to compute what you’re saying) can vary from moment to moment. This means I will be your unpredictable dinner guest. You got it, I’m that person. Fortunately I also know that no party is complete without the addition of this guest. So I proudly embrace this role. 

From the moment I receive the invite, I will be planning. I may not RSVP, I may not show any interest, but I’m excited. Megan takes care of any pre-party planning. Need a dish? Megan. Need an ugly sweater? Megan. Need a 7pm on the dot confirmation that we’ll be there for amuse bouche? Megan. She’ll also remind you I don’t eat pork. That I love Diet Coke. That I’m eagerly awaiting a delicious dessert.

So you may be asking, what could I possibly be planning for? It does seem that Megan is doing all the work. Well here’s what I’m planning… my outfit. If I’m not 100% there mentally, my outfit will be. I will make every effort to look my very best because I feel that it covers up any conversational shortcomings I may have. But more important than the outfit, I will be planning by resting Resting RESTING. I will sleep for days, I will not get off the couch, I will rearrange my schedule, because I so badly want to be there. My eyes will be closed until the minute I ask Megan to hail a cab for that 5 block walk to your place. 

So I’ve gotten to your party… now what? 

Well if we’ve just been introduced, I won’t list my accomplishments, because my being there is simply accomplishment enough for me. I will be engaged, but I won’t smile and nod, because nodding is torture (I’ll probably be smiling though). I might join a group conversation, but my voice won’t reach the whole group. I’ll find you, the quiet one and we’ll sit comfortably with one another. 

I will happily sip on Diet Coke. I won’t be drinking. And if you ask me why, I will honestly tell you that I can’t… I’d become Holiday Bambi. But if I were to trip and fall, I would probably make a joke about being drunk. Because chances are, I often look like the drunkest person in the room. You may be tipsy, but I’ll keep you on your toes! 

After dinner, when the cheeks start to rose, I’ll be relaxing in your infant child’s rocking chair. I will be smiling, enjoying the laughter of my friends organizing beer pong on that beautiful farm table. I will fall asleep to your raucous sounds, so happy to have been invited but so glad I don’t have to find the energy to party on. Because you guys understand. And you know I’ve done what I can. And I’ve accomplished the most important thing. I’ve made sure that we’re all together. 


And when I do get home, I will rush into my PJs, moving faster than I’ve moved all day. And then I will lay down, basking in the silence, thinking about the wonderful time I had.

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