Comedy paranoia moments of the recovering psyche

There was a time (when I lived with the Siren), where any attempt to change a plan (even if it was a good change) was met with derision, petulance, and quite often a tantrum.

Frequently, when taking place by mobile phone, a tantrum took the form of the call being hung up, and after that, the phone was usually switched off or routed to voicemail whenever I tried to call.

Today, I was arranging to meet Sandy for lunch before she headed off to her place. We had originally arranged to meet at Liverpool Street station, but then it occurred to me that it would make her journey much easier if she were to travel to Moorgate, and I could met her there just as easily from my workplace.

Half way though the call, she was starting to sound a little stressed as she realised that the ticket she had already bought, was not a valid travel card and would only get her from my place directly home, not allowing a stop-off in central London. As I was discussing this with her, the call was cut off.

Initially I thought it was a fault with the mobile connection, so I rang the phone... Straight to voicemail. Then again every couple of minutes or so over the next few minutes. When I continued to get to voicemail, I assumed that she had been talking to me as she went into the Underground station. So I left it a little while, assuming that she would reach the surface soon enough and call me.

And waited.

And waited.

And eventually I went and bought lunch (at the point I was shaking with hypoglycemia I might add). Ever the gentleman, I left it until the last moment.

Still no answer, so I left a message on the voicemail. Then I sent a text, just in case. (Belt and braces, that's me!)

No answer, so I sent another text. At this point the paranoia express was pretty much full steam ahead. Even though Sandy has shown no bizarro behavioural traits similar to the Siren, I'm freaking out big style. I'm thinking that phone has been switched off, to get back at me for fucking her about. I'm thinking typical Siren behaviour at this point.

Then after a few hours of self induced high drama, I take a step back, chill out, finish the working day, (which on a house level has turned to shit BTW), and head off home.

At home I get a message from Sandy, it seems her mobile was snatched by two blokes running past her at the station, and because she didn't have my number anywhere but on her phone, she had no way of arranging to meet me, so she headed home (to find her ex still hadn't moved out of the house!), then bought a new phone and sent me the text, after she had retrieved my number from her address book at home.

I really do need to treat people as if they are not the people they succeed in my life. I know Sandy is not Siren, but she still is a woman. I can tell this is going to be hard work, but if I don't start trusting women, I'm going to become entrenched in my ways and never recover from the ex-bitch in my old life.

In other news, I had sweet and sour chicken balls with egg fried rice for my evening meal, and the batter on the chicken balls was so fat soaked/oily I couldn't eat the meal and had to give up less than a third of the way in. I think my tolerance for fat in meals has dropped. I think this is a good thing. Either that or I have some hideous disease no doubt! :)