Are you the only single adult in your family? Do people look at you like someone branded the word 'Desperate' on your forehead whenever you show up to a party alone? Are people commenting on the stench of failure that seems to permeate your skin? What you have is a fairly common condition, of which I am a fellow sufferer: Sympathetic Hyper Interested Tool Syndrome. This condition is suffered largely by singles thirty years of age and over, and the source of infection is most likely to be a friend, relative, co-worker or acquaintance who is either married or in a steady relationship. The following symptoms are the most common.
- Acute anxiety when faced with the prospect of attending a formal event, such as a wedding, alone. May be accompanied by nausea, excessive perspiration and diarrhea if the bride has an unattached relative, friend or embittered ex-boyfriend she wants to introduce to/throw at you.
- Sudden, sharp decrease in self-worth. This is usually brought on by one sided conversations with a close family member, more than likely a parent, on the direct correlation between your lack of marital status and your socio-economic predicament.
- Sudden, sharp increase in body temperature, brought on by either rage or embarrassment at unwanted, unwarranted and often insincere sympathetic gestures from attached friends and acquaintances. False sad expressions, pats on the shoulder and the 'Aww,' noise appear to illicit the strongest effect.
If you think you might have this potentially crippling affliction, don't despair. There is a relatively painless cure. Simply perform the following three step procedure, and you will reap the benefits for life. Note: Repetition of the procedure may be necessary in severe cases.
1. Go to the place where you are at your most relaxed and find a comfortable spot to sit.
2. Shut out the negative thoughts that are stabbing away at your brain, and reflect instead on your best features, such as your intelligence, creativity, and sense of humour.
3. Confront the person responsible for passing on the disease, and say: I like the way I am. I don't need your pity/assistance/cast-offs, and I will not let you give me the S.H.I.T.S again!
*This post is for my best friend, Corrina. You go girl!