Why is it that some people can leave a party at midnight and go on to a club, dance ‘till dawn and finally go home to watch the sun rise, while others just go home?
How come some people go out three times a week, party all the time, are super-sonic party animals, always raise their hand and say “I’m in!” at any suggestion of a “lime”?
I missed 6 parties this week. Back in Montreal I always bemoaned the Christmas season ‘cause I felt like I wasn’t invited to enough parties. Here I am refusing more in one week than I ever attended in a season. Is there something wrong with me? Why did I prefer a warm tea, a great episode of House and some chocolate over a night out chatting with co workers or meeting new people? I’m a people person! I just seem to have fallen off the people wagon recently. I am preferring my little uni-cycle over all those busy buses.
Maybe the uncertainty of our lives just got me down. Maybe I just became temporarily unsociable. I prefer the company of my students to most of the people I work with.
At a birthday party a few weeks back, one that involved some semi nude swimming, a group of people headed off to a club in lieu of bed. I couldn’t imagine anything worse! I love my bed. I love my home. Am I getting old?
My home is my nest. I love and need my cocoon and I always have but I seem to be more and more selective about who I let in. This may very well be a by product of knowing we’ll be leaving at the end of the year. I think I have a protective shell and it is mighty cosy in here. Just me, House, my dog and occasionally a child or two.
Tonight I am going out.