The Hermess
June 17th 2010 21:00
One of my colleagues likes to ask me every Friday what my plans are for the weekend. The answer seldom changes: I like to relax and hang out with my sister and my closest friends, Andrea, Brett and Fred.
Somehow, he must have picked up on my lack of social life: “You should join a club or take up a new hobby so you can meet new people. Make some new friends.”
“But why?” I asked.
“You seem to mainly hang out with the same person a lot,” he said, referring to Brett.
“Brett and I live close to each other and he knows I like to see his cats which is why we spend so much time together.”
“But don’t you want to meet other people?”
“Nope. I have a small circle of friends and I like it that way. Quality, not quantity.”
My other colleague (the one who I like to exchange grunts with), however, knows that part of my small circle of friends is to do with me being a misanthrope or, the hermess (female hermit), as he likes to call me.
But back to the first colleague. “You should get your own cat,” he said.
“I can’t. The owners won’t allow me.”
“If you moved out west and got a bigger place then you could have a cat or two.”
Ha! I felt like saying. That is assuming the owner doesn’t mind. Not only that, I don’t think I could give up my inner city living lifestyle to move to the ‘burbs. That’s one thing my friend Karina and I have in common: we’re in our thirties, love living in large cities and don’t have children or partners. When we are together, we lead a Sex and the City lifestyle. The trouble is, Karina is in the habit of moving overseas or interstate from time to time so while she has other Carrie Bradshaw-type friends to mix with, I don’t so I spend my time taking it easy when she’s not around. If it means spending most weekends with the same people and animals, what’s the problem? I don’t think any human could ever be as loyal as Butterscotch and Gingersnap.
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