Poorly Reacclimating
Week of May 25th to May 31st, 2021
Your dreams of emerging from the pandemic a fascinating, realized woman will abruptly implode upon attending your first major post-vaccine social event.
Coming off of a year of only speaking when you felt like it, you will find that you have lost the ability to make basic conversation. This year of privacy gave you the opportunity to explore your introverted side. More specifically—ten months ago you stopped drinking, which helped you realize you weren’t so much an extrovert as much as you were just drunk for ten years.
You and your water glass will waft through the gathering with palpable insecurity—drifting from conversation to conversation like a forlorn ghost who is too self conscious to try to address any of their unfinished business.
This isn’t as hard as you are making it! For goodness sake Virgo just ask someone a question about themselves! What are you doing! At least walk with a little bit of a heavier step, your mute gliding is scaring people!
Truly unable to connect in any meaningful (or even shallow!) way, you’ll flee to the bathroom. You only kind of have to use it, but you just can’t stand the thought of being in front of people for another second.
You’ll find yourself inside of a bathroom that doesn’t lock. Some quick calculations determine that the distance between the toilet and the bathroom door is too vast to both pee and guard the door from unsuspecting toilet goers you’re certain would walk in on you at your most vulnerable.
You know with a toilet/door distance like this there will be no way for you to pee in peace. Plus you have tights on, and you can think of nothing more excruciating than a stranger witnessing you trying to pull up your tights under duress. Even in the best of times Virgo, you look pretty intense gettin’ those tights up.
You’ll rule out using the toilet, but the lighting in the bathroom is flattering, and is helping you forget that everyone at this event is/was/could-one-day-be a model. You have not yet developed a strong enough sense of self to have a party full of models be a simple fact—a neutral statement about your surroundings.
Instead you’ll think the room swimming with models is some kind of divine internal test you must overcome. And in some ways, yes, of course it would be great if one day you become capable of celebrating the fact that many, many, people are much, much, hotter than you. But listen, I don’t know everything about the future, but I do know a lot, and lemme tell ya, that particular brand of self actualization is decades away for you, so for now just do your best to enjoy the false sense of confidence you’re experiencing due to low bathroom light and no models in sight.
Rome wasn’t built in a day Virgo, take the win of being the hottest person in the bathroom right now (it’s empty) and leave the overhauling self improvement for another day.
Before you leave the bathroom and return to the event (to horrify all people present with your inability to converse, inability to recognize that, and inability to call it a night) you’ll check the toilet you never used to ensure there’s nothing vile lying inside that could be socially attributed to you by the next unfortunate soul to enter this unlock-able bathroom.
There’s definitely going to be something in there, so please don’t forget to check.
After you flush an anonymous stranger’s refuse, you’ll notice the toilet paper roll needs to be changed. The new rolls of toilet paper are in an obvious location. You can never understand why people don’t just change a toilet paper roll if the rolls are in an obvious location. So you’ll replace the toilet paper roll, and then just do some general tidying up of the communal bathroom during the first social event you have been to in fourteen months.
Proud of the clean bathroom you have created, you decide you are finally confident enough to head back to the event. Upon exiting your safe haven you’ll see that your lingered cleaning was preventing about six hundred thousand people from doing coke. You’ll feel a little bad for delaying them, but feel a twinge of hope that maybe someone will be grateful that the toilet paper roll was changed for them.
It’s unlikely anyone will appreciate you (or anyone) for this Virgo, but after seeing your behavior at this event I must say—it’s good you did one thing right that night.
Sometimes a party is about being fabulous, or a model. Unless you’re you, Virgo, in which case a party is about publicly navigating every insecurity you have, while assuming that no one else has any. The world turns on its axis simply to aid in your journey of self discovery! Enjoy!