“Hey, wanna come out for a drink? So-and-so and I are just heading out from work, we could meet you . . . ” Sounds of doors closing and people talking, some street noise on the other side.

“Hey! Uh . . . thanks, but I have something I uh . . . have to do here.” Pouring a cup of tea and rifling through the silverware drawer for a tea spoon.

“Studying? You have to quit that--have you even stopped to eat?” Car horns, people laughing, someone cursing loudly.

“No, not studying, just . . . busy. Sorry. Catch you later, though! Have fun!” Locking the door, turning on the reading lamp.

“But . . . okay. Don’t study! Bye!” Voice sounding a bit confused but probably thinking an explanation will be forthcoming at our next meeting.

Conversations like that have gone through several incarnations in my life, usually at the exact moment I have snuggled up with a cup of tea and a really excellent book, having showered and put on my pyjamas early for the occasion.

Most of the time I get accused of being sick (rather a good excuse for me since it is so annoyingly valid), being unsociable, too studious, or just plain shy. Once I got accused of being on a secret rendezvous, which amused me greatly.