I'm not a robot

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I'm not a robot

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From the author: The story is the author’s, fictitious, any coincidences are accidental. “When a person points a finger at someone, he must remember that at this time four other fingers are pointing at him.”__Louis Nitzer__ENY. It was an ordinary evening of alumni reunions. Lyuba went there in high spirits and with a desire to see her old school friends. Twenty-five years have passed, it’s simply unthinkable, and after graduation they never met Anka and Svetka. Lyuba then immediately left for Moscow and during this time visited home six or seven times... There was no time for everything, she was building a career, organizing her life, and there was no desire to see her hometown. All she knew about her friends was that they got married and had children. Imagine her surprise when she saw in front of her two middle-aged, overweight women, in unfashionable dresses, strange shoes and with feminine hairstyles on their heads. After the first words of greeting, Lyuba realized that it would not be easy for them to communicate: Anya and Sveta were fussing, smiling shyly, avoiding eye contact. “If only they wouldn’t be jealous,” a thought flashed through Lyuba’s mind. Lyuba’s fears began to be justified already in the car on the way to the restaurant. The friends sat in the back seat and were silent, and Lyuba drove the car and thought: “I can imagine if they knew how much my car costs. Yessss... inconvenient... If they are already sitting so sulky... oh, I didn’t realize: I should have called a taxi...” In the restaurant, while her friends were undressing in the wardrobe, Lyuba quietly took off her gold watch and quietly put it in her purse. “I won’t make them nervous for nothing... They’ve probably only seen something like this on TV...” At the table, reading the menu, Lyuba tried to choose cheaper dishes so that Anya and Sveta wouldn’t think that she was showing off her financial capabilities to them. - Well, shall we move the glasses? – Anya suggested. “Or what do they say in Moscow?” “For the meeting,” Lyuba sipped the champagne, frowned and, leaning toward Anya, said quietly: “Don’t think that life in Moscow is fabulous, there’s plenty of crap too.” I’m spinning like a squirrel in a wheel, and I just need a car for convenience, you know? I save time! “Well, they could have saved up for cars in twenty years, chickens...,” Lyuba thought with irritation, pouring champagne into glasses, “Me too, they found an object for envy...” An hour passed. All this time, Lyuba tried to control her speech, answering questions dryly, so as not to blurt out too much and not increase, as it seemed to her, the growing envy of her friends. The mood was ruined. The conversation was interrupted by a ringing mobile phone. “I’ll be there now,” Lyuba said, leaving the table in the foyer. - Hello, Ritul... Oh, it’s hard, dear... Can you imagine, I was so looking forward to this meeting, and they... I’m sitting, catching their glances, and I have the impression that they hate me, deeply, truly, like happy losers... Where From a human perspective, this is even understandable to me: at school they were excellent students, but they considered me incapable of anything... And what happened? They are dull, and I am a successful designer, I live in the capital, an apartment and all that... Of course, they are offended and unpleasant. But you can’t do that... because of the junk!...And while Lyubasha was tormented by her conclusions, Anya and Sveta, talking in whispers, sincerely pitied Lyubasha for the fact that she, at forty-two years old, had never had a husband and there will never be a child again, due to infertility, which Lyuba’s mother, Aunt Lera, once told them about, may she rest in peace... What kind of life is there without children, then? That’s why Lyubasha is so nervous, her friends sympathized with her, agreeing to continue to do their best to remain tactful and under no circumstances reveal their pity...____________So... Projection is a psychological process classified as a psychological defense mechanism (attributing one’s own qualities to another person, feelings and desires). We all use projection - some to a greater extent, and some to a lesser extent. This happens unconsciously, i.e. the person making the projection is absolutely sure that"

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