We all have those friends who think staying home on a Friday or Saturday (or even Thursday) night would be social suicide. Maybe you referred to them as a “bar star” at some point in the past. You might even be their partner in crime most weekends, but there inevitably comes a time when going out is no longer the highlight of your week. In fact, coming home, taking your bra off, and going to bed early sounds a lot more appealing than hitting the sweaty clubs. But you know when you tell your friend this, she’s going to whine and beg, and probably try to bribe you with tequila shots. But your decision has been made. Now you just have to get it through her head.
I have to get up early tomorrow. Not that this ever used to stop you, but sometimes the thought of having brunch with your boyfriend’s parents on only 3 hours of sleep and while honestly, still a little drunk, is just too much to bear. You’ll need your energy if you’re going to withstand his mother’s passive aggressive comments about your outfit with a smile on your face.
I think I have the plague. You know that period cramps or a measly little head cold isn’t going to do it. Being extremely sick might get her off your back, and if you imply that you’re not only ill, but extremely contagious, she’ll be more than happy to keep her distance.
I’m too broke. A legitimate reason. Some of us actually prioritize paying our bills over a night of watered down vodka cranberry’s at the newest club.
It’s way too cold/far/inconvenient. Any one of these reason on its own probably won’t cut it, but if you combine them all into one super-excuse, the message should be delivered loud and clear— Under no circumstances will I be leaving my apartment tonight, so stop asking.
I have a perfectly good bottle of wine right here, why go out? Not to mention I can drink it on my couch in my pajamas without having to worry about some finance bro bumping into me and making me spill half of it on my new blouse. You’re welcome to come get drunk with me in the comfort of my apartment, but I won’t be going out tonight. No thank you.
There’s a new season of House of Cards on Netflix. If you don’t know that Claire Underwood takes priority over, well, just about anything, then you really need to start watching House of Cards.
I don’t want to run into my ex. Every time I leave the house there is a chance he’ll be there. I’ve gone three months without seeing him, it’s only a matter of time.
All my jeans are in the wash. Basically, I just don’t want to go out. Let it go.
I have a date. A date with Netflix and the aforementioned bottle of wine, that is. It’s not a lie, it’s just half the truth. If you question me, I’ll be forced to make up a man that doesn’t exist. Don’t make me do that. It’s depressing.
OMG, I didn’t get any of your texts! Okay, I’m lying. I got all your texts, but chose to ignore them. Want to go for brunch?
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