Premature quarter life crisis + I’m still hip and cool, aren’t i?
Tonight i felt the inexplicable need to be anywhere but home. At half past nine Dem woke me up mid-nap and told me i needed to scram because he was late for work. I’d totally forgotten that he needed to head back to the office so i’d slept through the entire night instead of staying up and spending “quality time” with him.
For someone who strongly embodies the whole “all or nothing” concept in most areas of my life, there’s something so despairing about going back home so early in the night when you’ve got at least another half day in you. I just hate letting all that energy go to waste. I could never be one of those people who leave when the party is just heating up. What’s that saying? “Leave while you’re still having fun”. I mean what the hell is that about? Who wants to leave when everything is still in full swing? Boring wankers, that’s who.
Obviously, i’d hate to be one of those people who overstay their welcome but you know how i know it’s time to leave? When people start to clean up. Now that’s pathetic. It’s not even when the host starts to clean up, it’s when these small group of long-suffering guests suddenly take it upon themselves to start politely inquiring about garbage bags while rushing about daintily like little elves and throwing occasional disgusted/smug looks at everyone else present just so you feel obliged to join in the cleaning campaign as well. Talk about ruining the buzz. These people are the equivalent of the switching on of lights during closing time at the club.
Okay i’ve gone off on a tangent. So yeah basically all i did was spend two hours “cruising”. But mostly just sitting in the car and asking everyone within a 10 km radius if they wanted to hang out. And idk if it’s a sign that i’m freaking aging but the fact that four out of five people told me that they were getting ready for bed or catching up on work made me feel freaking fifty.
Anyway, I swear i don’t usually do that. It was just tonight. I initially had the idea that i was going to be an adult and head to Gloria Jeans on my own and sit outside with a book (Gillian Flynn’s Dark Places, gripping read so far), have a cigarette or two while furtively sipping on my sweet peppermint tea (although i will never understand why the fuck cafes charge you five dollars for throwing a fucking tea sachet into fucking hot water) while taking quick sweeping glances over the rim of my cup to see if i recognized anyone or if anyone looked like they were judging me for being alone. But then i drove past and lost my nerve. So i drove back home.
And then i decided i still had some steam left in me so i overshot past my place twice and drove for twenty more minutes than i needed to in both directions before realizing that i couldn’t put off going home any longer and that i was actually getting bored with driving around aimlessly.
Naturally, everyone started replying me the moment i got home. Sigh. It wasn’t meant to be.
I was just fucking meant to be alone tonight.