Well, it’s Friday night and it’s that special time of the week when a part of your brain starts yelling at you for being a hermit all week. Usually, this is when you drag yourself to the bathroom, smear makeup all over your face, shove your feet into some totally cute but totally evil shoes, and go out dancing, drinking or a combination of both. But you know what? Screw that noise. I’m not going out — I’m staying in and watching Netflix instead. Here’s why:
It’s too much work to look good. Oh dear god, how much stuff do I have to put all over my face before I no longer look like someone smacked me with a greasy porcupine? Apparently, all of it. All of the stuff. Moisturizer, primer, foundation, blush, powder, and on and on and on. Then when I’m done with that, you’re saying I actually have to take care of the whole hair situation? No, I do not accept this. I’m staying in my pajamas tonight.
I never have as much fun as I think I will. Occasionally something amazing happens, but that’s pretty rare. You know what usually happens? I awkwardly dance to music loud enough to beat my eardrums halfway into my brain before getting stepped on by some woman in the world’s sharpest heels or some random dude comes up and starts grinding on me. Whatever with your FOMO — I’m not missing anything.
Talking to people is hard work. Ugh! I have to come up with something interesting to say? You want witty banter? Well, I’m fresh out. Leave me alone. I don’t want to win at conversation; I just want to sit on the couch, watch TV and let my brain melt out my ears.
Alcohol tastes bad. Everyone knows it, no one admits it. Alcohol, especially affordable alcohol, tastes like liquid disappointment. That’s why no one ever drinks non-alcoholic beer. I could go out for drinks or I could stay in and eat a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough. Which do you think I’ll enjoy more?
TV shows are, like, really really good right now. Seriously, it’s hard work keeping up with all the great stuff being made. I know I should watch Breaking Bad, it’s on my list, but I have to catch up with Game of Thrones and finish off this season of Orange is the New Black first. Plus, I’m still way behind on Scandal. Being culturally up to date takes so much time, it’s practically a job.
Not wearing pants or shoes is kinda fantastic. High heels suck. They really do. I know some girls are like “oh, I’m just more comfortable in heels,” but they are lying. Human feet aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t like it. And pants? Pants are unnatural too. Just chilling in a giant t-shirt, underwear, and socks? Yes. That is my jam.
I’ve been doing things all week. I have a finite number of things I can do before I run out of energy. Then I have to recharge my batteries by NOT doing things. Maybe not doing things all weekend. Yeah, I’m ordering delivery and not doing things. Not doing things is great. You should try it sometime.
Go away, I’m introverting. You know what? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with introverting. It’s so accepted to be judgmental about staying at home, like only losers are allowed to binge watch a season of something on Netflix in a single night. That’s BS — what exactly is wrong with being an introvert? Why is extroversion the ideal? I’m just going to do what I want to, which sometimes is not talking to anyone and just being by myself, chillin’. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
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