Somewhere along the line, I went from being 25 to 75.
I used to enjoy my weekends. I was a weekend warrior. When my work week was over, I would celebrate in spectacular fashion.
Oh, don’t worry. I’m not saying I would go to clubs and pick up guys or anything skeezy like that. But I would go out with my friends, have a great time and just generally unwind.
I must admit, I think my current weekend funk is due to my return to school. That’s really when it all started. During the semester, I wouldn’t go out on the weekends because I was so busy catching up on schoolwork.
Where I used to rejoice at the arrival of the weekend, now I welcome it as I would an earwig skittering across my foot as I sit on the toilet.
I sense the weekend’s approach with great hesitation: how will I spend my time? Will anyone invite me out? People just generally assume I don’t do weekends anymore because I haven’t in so long, but in all honesty, I would love to see some old friends and drink some kava downtown.
I hope that as I get settled into this new age of my life and I find a steady job, my social life will go from a death rattle to a healthy, deep breath.
Update: As I wrote this, I was sipping hot mint tea.