Well, I made it through my harrowing ordeal last night. Just kidding, it actually went fine and I had a decent time. It was a big event with lots of people and food/drinks, so there was definitely an underlying anxiety factor throughout - but I got through, ate a reasonable amount, realized that no one really pays all that much attention to what I am/am not eating, and survived to blog about it. Story over.
The hardest part was getting ready beforehand, actually. I was feeling super nervous about the night ahead and super uneasy about the food in my stomach from earlier (literally same thing I eat every day. No idea why it made me feel 10 pounds heavier than usual yesterday). I was also a little fuzzy on the dress code for the event, meaning I had to walk a fine line between underdressed and overdressed while ALSO taking into account the fact that I felt like a whale. But I made it out the door with all body parts appropriately covered in nice-ish pants, a nice-ish top, a cardigan, and flats. Soo...mission accomplished?
Anyway, I wish there were a more exciting story to tell, but that was pretty much it. I don't know why it's so hard for me to believe that the fate of the world doesn't hinge on how much I eat in any given night, but really, it's hard. Just another product of a disorderly and profoundly self-absorbed brain. It can't be very interesting for you guys to read about my periodic freak-outs over this kind of stuff just to come to the same anti-climactic conclusion every time - sorry about that!
I also promise to try and stop complaining about how much I hate therapy. My life isn't always so boring, I swear. I'll think of better stuff to write about soon.
Happy Easter and belated Passover, everyone!