Simchaphobia?

I'd always said it would never happen to me.

I watched my friends, classmates, and even my mom succumb to the craze, but I wouldn't give in. It wasn't even a struggle; I simply had no interest.

So what happened since then that turned me, sensible ol' BasMelech, into a compulsive OnlySimchas clicker?

I have my suspicions.

It started one day when I heard that my [former?] best friend got engaged.
Heard, as in, through the grapevine.
Hey, I used to be the grapevine!
To add insult to injury, I'd just spoken to her a couple of days earlier, and she didn't say anything.
Now, we weren't in touch much lately, but still...

Then the same thing happened with another two friends. Though neither was as dear to me as the first, it had this snowball effect on my brain...

Then I got this email with pictures of a baby (about a month old) that I didn't recognize. The name was familiar though... Turns out she belongs to my former roommate. Again, we weren't so close, but come on -- roommates! She'd lived with me almost as long as she'd been living with her husband when that baby was born! I didn't even know she was expecting. And you can't even use the privacy excuse here as with shidduchim.

Then another email: "Bas-Melech, why didn't you tell me that [other, closer friend] had a baby two weeks ago?!" Um... she did? Boy or girl? Again, I didn't even know this was coming... Get this straight: This is the friend who personally emailed me photos from her wedding the night of because I couldn't make it halfway across the world to attend. Even if she was too busy becoming a mom to spread the joy, you'd think a mutual friend would have told me. Especially since, until I was stuffed into this cave (when did that happen?) I was the national yenta, town crier, and official news-spreader.

You get the picture. After months of silence, this went on for about a week straight. I never thought I'd be desensitized enough to say this, but I'd had enough. Even the richest, most delicious chocolate can make you nauseous if you gorge yourself with it. (Correction: you can never have too much chocolate. But just to make the point...)

Now, of course I only want to be happy for all of them. But it's time for the enchanted princesses to take a reality check: If you want me to share your simcha, start by sharing your simcha with me. And if you don't, then don't be surprised that I'm finding it hard to jump for joy at last week's seconhand recycled news.

It came to the point where I was afraid to pick up the phone. One of my last remaining single friends left me a voice mail that she wanted to reach me ASAP...after not returning my calls for about a month... I grabbed two squares of chocolate before returning the call, and I was still panicking.
"Hi, BasMelech!" she said, with a distinctive lilt to her voice.
"Don't say it." I snapped. "I know already."
Pause.
"Oh." Pause. "How?"
"Ohmygosh, are you serious? I knew you sounded too happy!" I accused her outright.
"What?"
"What what?"
"Nothing, just wanted to let you know I'm in town for Shabbos, I was hoping we could get together..."
What a waste of calories.
Thank heaven for single friends.

But wait a minute... what's she doing in town for Shabbos?!

No, really, I'm OK. Just give me a couple of weeks for the paranoia to fade out. Meanwhile, if you don't find me here often enough, I'll be busy checking OnlySimchas.