For the past few weeks, my life had revolved around the World Cup. People are usually surprised to hear that I follow the tournament, even more so when I say I bet. I'm surprised myself, since I don't follow soccer. But I realised that it's a terrific form of escapism. And do I need one these days.
It's been a difficult time emotionally. I've been angry, temperamental, irritated, frayed at the edges. I've said harsh words, waged cold wars, sulked and been "mean" (or so a colleague whined). But when there is a match, for 90 minutes and more, I can forget about everything else and channel my frustration via the WC matches, rant about ineptness of my favourite teams, obsess about Paul and cheer and groan and get worked up in unison with everyone else. Besides, it's a great way to bond with my pals. :)
But with the last match played on Monday, my break from reality is over. I take a good look at myself and feel bad about my tantrums. I hope those people whom I had snapped at will understand. As the Switchfoot song goes, I am just one of those "crooked souls trying to stay up straight".
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