mortifying morning

This morning I ran out of my place in a massive hurry - I was late for work AGAIN. As I waited for the elevator, I obsessed over my decrepid state in a moment of privacy. I didn't plan properly and didn't feel right with my outfit. Just then - the elevator door opens. meh, no big deal - strangers.

I rushed in blindly and selected my desired destination.

"M!" i hear a girl exclaim.
I look up - "OH HEY P!" {major fake happy}
We proceed with catch up conversation.
"Man - you look really tired...really tired!" She said just as the elevator reached her car park level. I didn't have time to say something in my own defense and she smiled, clicked her sassy slingbacks, snapped back her designer tote and dashed off.

DAMNATION!!! I know P from the papparazzi days. She hung out with a crowd that was loosely connected to mine. Strictly papparazzi and NOT a friend. I thought none of those days mattered anymore.

I guess it doesn't when one can hide in anonymity. I got used to that living in Toronto.

Returning to beautiful but small small Montreal - let me just say - is unforgiving. There are always witnesses to feed the rumour mills. There are long memories and gossip-mongers. Reminders of painful moments are always right around the corner.

"M is back in town from Toronto. She looks old now - not pretty anymore. AND she's wearing clothes from before she left. She must have gotten fired from her job and she's living downtown so her parents must have lost their money and sold their house."

Sounds far-fetched. But far worse things have been said and heard.

Looks like I'll have to ignore the noise until people get to know the real me.