I S A B E L L A
It's annoying really.
Having to sit here among other women and talking about celebrity gossip like it'll fix all of the worlds problems. The only thing I can think of as I sit here with a cup of tea in my that has now turned cold, is of my cat that's living lavishly and most likely laying on my bed. Not that I have a problem with that, but I desperately wish to be him at this moment.
Lay, lament, languish...
Laying in bed with a book in hand; lament over the characters that had died; languish...
I can only go as far as to ponder about it.
"So, what do you think?" Eleanor asks, making me jump out from my thoughts.
"Sorry can you repeat that? I zoned out for a bit." I reply with my most convincing smile.
Her cheeks turn to a slight pink as she clears her throat and adjusts her skirt.
"W-well, we wanted to know if you will be attending Mariah's wedding?"
Oh, we weren't on the discussion of celebrities and their personal lives anymore? Have I been living in my thoughts that long?
"Depends, I haven't recieved an invite..." I shrug as I place my cup on the coffee table.
The other women snorted at my words but I really didn't care much.
To be frank, I'm not suprised that Mariah hasn't sent me an invitation. The only relationship we have is that we're co-workers. Nothing more, nothing less. I can't exactly go outside and confidently call her my friend either. Hell, I don't even have the woman's number saved to my phone. And besides, who would invite a total stranger to their wedding? Okay, maybe not a total stranger... but still.
"Oh, she must've forgotten. I'll remind her tommorow." Claire quickly announces.
Please don't.
"Thank you." I reply with a grin.
I highly doubt that I would show up even if she found it in her heart to invite me. Not that I'm calling her a heartless woman or any of the sorts. If she was heartless, she wouldn't be getting married.
"Mariah and Fergus make such an amazing couple, it's like they were made for each other." Eleanor perks up.
The discussion continued about the two betrothed. I couldn't exactly join the conversation because I wasn't interested and I was too neverminded to act like I was. So, I just idly sat there and kept myself company with my thoughts.
A little while later, my phone rings. I excuse myself from the group of women and hastily walk of to the kitchen.
"Mom," I state without even bother looking at the phone. Reason for this is 'cause I set a ringtone specifically for her.
"How is it going over there?" She asks.
I take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. I give her the same answer like I always do when she questions me about these time-wasting gatherings:
"Not too bad but not the best either."
I could hear my mother mutter something under her breath on the other side of the phone with my response. If only I could tell her that I'm just annoyed as her.
"Look mom, no matter how many times you force me to go to these things, I won't change my mind."
"Isabella, I only want what's best for you." She confided.
You could give your best by stop nagging on me about 'settling down by getting married'. Fucks sake, I'm a thirty-two-year-old woman, not a damn child.
"I'll call you back later." I reply and switch of the phone.
The only reason why I'm here putting myself through absolute torture, is because of my mother dearest. Apparently, she doesn't want me to end up all alone for the rest of my life. And of course, the only solution to that is by marrying and having a kid. I've told her countless times that I don't mind turning into a cat lady, it's far better than maintaining a household. And honestly speaking, I'm not really interested in dating. Yes, I've had relationships in the past and they just didn't seem to workout. All of the guys I dated all had different excuses when we broke up:
'You don't love me enough'
'Am I not enough for you?'
'I found someone better'
There's alot more which I won't bother even mentioning. I will admit though, whenever I had to go through the whole break-up phase, I wasn't 'heartbroken'. I didn't cry my guts out with a bowl of ice-cream or have lingering thoughts about the person. I simply accepted it and moved on with my life as if they were never there.
I tuck my phone in my back pocket and go back to the living area. As I enter the room, silence took over with a few coughs being heard from some of the women.
Wow, couldn't they make it any more obvious that the topic was about me?
I clear my throat as I make my way back to where I was seated. I grab my handbag from the couch and excuse myself. I briskly walk out and make my way to my car.
I started fumbling in my bag for my car keys and get frustrated when I couldn't find it. God, don't tell me I left it inside?
I start feeling my jean pockets, as I did a sigh of relief escapes from me as I felt it was indeed there.
I press the button to unlock my car and hop in. I throw my bag in the backseat and lay my head against the steering wheel.
What I need now is a bottle of wine...no, what I need is something stronger. Maybe a bottle of vodka will do?
"Fucks sake" I groan.
Everything is just starting to get on my nerves at this point. My mom pestering me about how shitty my life will turn out if I don't 'settle down'; the amount of damn gatherings I had to go to to subdue her pestering; my mental health being fucked and maintaining my job.
Like really, what purpose does it serve for me to always show up to these things if I find absolutely no interest in them? I always end up sitting on my own and let my thoughts consume me. Even those women themselves don't know why I'm there. They know damn well that I'd rather be picking up horse shit than idly talking about pointless things. Seriously, I feel like if I don't somehow convince my mother that she needs to give up with her antics, she'll be the cause of me getting grey hair. I get that she's worried about me, but she needs to realize that I am an independent woman that doesn't need someone to continuously remind me of how crap life will turn out if I decide to be alone for the rest of my life. And besides, I don't consider myself that old yet, she's overexaggerating at this point!
"I need that vodka."
I drove of to the nearest store and bought a bottle of wine and vodka. I know I said I needed something stronger, but fuck it, I'm buying both. With how I'm feeling right now, I need both a sweet and bitter taste for my palette.
Will I wake up with a scorching headache and vomit my guts out?
Yes.
Will I regret it?
Yes.
But does that stop me from doing it?
Absolutely not.
It may seem irresponsible of me to act like someone who just discovered alcohol, but really who exactly is going to point fingers at me? As I've said, I'm an independent woman who works at the law firm. I live in two-story house with a siamese cat and my pantry's always stacked with the most organic food, what more could I ask for? I'm living the dream and I try to live it to my utmost best.
Key word: try
Pro's of living alone? No-one can judge you when you haven't done the laundry for two weeks or washed the dishes.
Con's? That no-one is there to do it for you other than yourself.
Independence sure is a great thing.
When I arrived home, I took of my sneakers at the door and kicked them to the side. I put on my slippers that are always neatly placed and ready for me to slip in.
"Now then, time to lament."