Annoying Rambling on a Friday Night

Over the past few years, I have become more of a Saturday Night person, than a Friday Night person. Maybe it was because of my group home job, and the night shifts that came along with it, but I really started to relish the thought of laying on the couch on Friday night, watching multiple episodes of What Not to Wear, and eating a big bowl of popcorn all by myself. When I have my way, Friday is my night to wind down, and veg out, while Saturday is my night to shine, and burn some energy dancing and drinking and socializing.

Last night, after a gruelling, emotional rollercoaster of a day, I kicked myself out of the house, and headed to The Pub. I had just about had it with my own self, and needed to get away from reality for a bit. I was lucky enough to run into some of my more laid back friends, and we had a wonderful evening, just chatting over a couple of pints. Since it was a weeknight, we all headed home early, and made plans to meet up again tonight, and really tear it up, and as Becks said, "Just get fuckin' stupid." It seemed like a great idea at the time. Get together with some fun, intelligent people and have a rip roarin' good time.

So, here I am. Friday night, a half hour after our agreed upon meeting time. Showered and ready to go, if only I could muster the energy to put on some clean clothes, and get the courage to walk out the door and head downtown.

Tonight would be the perfect night for me to stay home and veg out in the living room. Roomies are out for the night, I've got a 2 litre of beer in the fridge, and popcorn in the cupboard. But the thought of being alone with my thoughts, scares the shit out of me. I have spent my week trying in vain to distract myself by talking on the phone for hours, or heading to The Pub, hoping that after a night of talking out my problems and having a couple pints will help me sleep at night. Of course, it doesn't work, and my time alone is spent over-analyzing, re-playing recent events and crying about them on my bed. Sad, pitiful, and mentally exhausting.

So, what's a girl to do? Spending time with the group from last night is mighty appealing to me, as I know that they will be patient with me if I get into self-pity mode, and most likely, they will be the best distractions of all, being the conversationalists that they are. However, then there are the others. The boisterous, Friday Night People, whom I haven't seen all week, and will want explanations, and will say they're sorry for my troubles, and basically just get me depressed or grouchy all over again. They mean well, I know they do, but can I handle it? If I'm going to go out tonight, I would rather not talk about myself all evening, I can sit at home and talk about myself, to myself, if I want to stay crazy in the head.

I have spent more nights at The Pub in this past week, than I have in the past month. It sickens me. I can't be alone, but I want to be alone. I don't want to try and drink my troubles away, because booze is a big factor in why I am in this sad sorry state in the first place, but if I am going to see my friends, that's what they are doing, that's where they are. It's sad, and comforting all at the same time. Drinking is a way of life for all of us, but at the same time, I have more friends than a girl could ask for, just waiting to show me a good time (or attempt to, anyway), and cheer me up.

Arrghh!!!

To be perfectly honest, what I really want to do, is lay on the couch and eat popcorn, and enjoy the quietness of the house, until he calls to tell me he is off work. We would go back to his place, watch TV, cuddle and laugh at the cats. Unfortunately, that just isn't going to happen. I need to get that through my head, but it's going to take some time.

Until then, Becks just called to say that she's waiting for me. So I guess I'm going, off to face the madness that is Friday Night. With any luck, I will sneak out early, and come home in a better mood, tired and ready to let myself sleep. I'm crossing my fingers.