Not quite a socialite

Do you remember when Saturday night was all about getting dressed up and heading out on the town? I do, well sort of, vaguely. It seems those times are long behind me because it is unusual these days for me to even register a Saturday night as something other than that gap between finishing work on Saturday and heading back in for more of the same on a Sunday. 

Take last night as a reasonably typical example. I finished work and headed home to climb into my pyjamas. It was one of those Saturdays where I just wanted to forget the world. My boyfriend was heading out to some social engagement and my flat mate was absent for the night, possibly working but I was glad to have the place to myself. I was feeling lousy as though my stomach was being tortured from the inside, Yes IBS is every bit as thrilling as 
You'd think , and all because I'd eaten a rice cake With almond butter With my lunch. It seems the more I eliminate from my diet, even temporarily, the more fine tuned my stomach becomes and now it has a hissy fit every time I eat something it doesn't like. It feels like this is happening every damn day. Anyway all of this left me feeling all bleugh and tired and all kinds of unattractive. 

So by 6 I was in my pyjamas and I lazed around the apartment for the night. I wrote a blog post and finished an email I had been writing for three days, I fine tuned my laptop and downloaded new anti virus software and then I drank many cups of tea and made my dinner and read my book. I finally downloaded a mindfulness meditation cd but never got around to actually listening to it but surely I should already be feeling more relaxed just knowing its on my phone. 
With all that done, I watched some tv on
My laptop but couldn't keep my eyes open after 10.30 and had to abandon the show after I woke myself up for the 5th time.

The thing is that's not an unusual way for me to spend a weekend night. In fact if I wasnt dating someone considerably more sociable than me I'd probably be in danger of becoming an actual hermit. 
After enough time without practice you start to forget how to socialise and it all begins to feel like so much effort. I currently own two pairs of heels that I can walk in unaided because I am so out of practice.

It's almost as if I'm letting all the practice I got in at college go to waste. All the nights out and parties and being able to push through the hangover to go to college or work or both on the same day. At 28 my social life was booming compared to now but perhaps I was just getting it all out of my system so that I could start to relax in my thirties and have less sore heads and mornings where I wake up thinking oh God, did I really ....?. Though it could be argued that my twenties are a large part of the reason why my body is falling apart now. I prefer to not assign blame in this case, mostly because it will always fall on me.

Now that I am all grown up, I am resolving not to be too sensible or boring but I have accepted that I am unlikely to be socialising like I did in college ever again. 

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