In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “It’s My Party.”
I don’t do parties. I cannot stand the enforced jolity of them, the huge amounts of planning and preperation which is required for them to work. They are cattle markets for people who either have a need for validation by people who are lacking in self esteem or people who have an inflated sense of self importance. Then there are the patrons, either cosying up to the host or passing indignation upon the other guests.
Bad things always happen to me at parties. Just ask Andrea, Mary or Philippa.