Work life / social life

I spend my working day organising the movements of council repair men. I keep track of their appointments and I send them off on emergency jobs when necessary. I spend a lot of my day on the phone to them. They're a good bunch and I have a laugh with them.

On Saturday, one of the sparkies got married and he invited everyone from work to the reception. Now, I'm not a great one for socialising with work colleagues. Although I have gotten along well enough with most of the people I have shared office space with my relations with them have usually ended at the door at five o'clock. Over the last five or six years I have only formed two real friendships that existed outside office hours. So it was with a little trepidation that I decided to go to this wedding reception with all the repair men and my office manager. I felt that I should make the effort - team building and all that bollocks. But I get on with them all at work and I have a laugh with them, don't I? It would be fine.

Christ, I was bored. I sat or stood around supping my drinks, drifting between conversations, occasionally nodding or laughing but contributing nothing. They are all nice people but I had nothing to share with them.

And then the typical wedding reception disco thing started. Now, I love music - a life without music would not be worth living. And, despite being a naturally self-conscious (or "uptight") kinda' fella, I am capable of letting rip and dancing. Well, all right, I don't so much dance as spasm but that's not the point. I do dance but only if A) I am really, really into the music or B) I am utterly shitfaced. Sadly, on Saturday night neither were the case. It was typically inoffensive party music and everyone was loving it.

One thing I really hate is when people try to force you into having fun. C'mon! Lighten up! Dance! It's fun! Enjoy yourself! But if you just aren't in the mood then no amount of cajoling or bullying is going to make you feel otherwise. The more people try to get you to join in, the more you want them to fuck off and leave you alone. So, there they were all boozed up and giving it up on the dancefloor and trying to entice me to join them and have fun; and I was feeling more and more awkward and uncomfortable. And then I did something really stupid: I legged it. When no-one was looking I made a break for the door, left the building and walked briskly to the nearby bus-stop. I didn't say a word to anybody, didn't make an excuse and say goodbye; I just bolted.

I've probably cemented my reputation as a real miserable, uptight bastard who can't have a good time. I wish I had trusted my gut instinct and not attended the bloody reception in the first place. Roll on Monday morning.