It's 7:26 on Saturday night. I've got about a half hour before my friend arrives to take me over to her place for some pre-partying with our Cheesehead friends. And I just don't want to go. I didn't go out last night. I only went out last Friday night because it was St. Patrick's Day and it is my duty as a good Irish girl to go out and drink lots of beer. But I was home by 10:30 anyway. I didn't even put makeup on Saturday.
Last night I was able to beg off because I was exhausted and spontaneously bursting into tears throughout the evening hours. I'm not really tired tonight and I'm not crying, but I still don't want to go out. I just don't feel like I'll be any fun.
I'm hoping a gin (Bombay Sapphire, fancy!) gimlet gives me the liquid motivation to go out for at least a while. But the glass is half-empty (did I mention that I'm an uber pessimist?) and I'm not feeling any different.
But I'll be a trooper. I guess.