For the past few years I have attended a kickass New Year’s Eve house party, hosted by a wonderful couple who really know how to let loose and have a good time. I always end up having fun; even when I go with the intention of only staying for a short time, I end up staying longer and laughing it up.
I realized today that I’m just not into it tonight. I was out on Saturday night until almost 2am, and yesterday I worked all day and then ran out the door to a dinner party, and didn’t get home until after 9. My poor lonely kitty was so pathetically glad to see me that, even though all I wanted to do was crawl immediately into bed, I stayed up for another hour and a half so that he could have some cuddle time. He purred the whole time, his head tucked under my arm for extra snuggliness.
Today I was exhausted all day – at work my eyes felt gritty and I could barely concentrate. It’s partly because I’m off coffee right now (not going to the chiropractor and letting my IBS get out of control means coffee and I do not mix right now) and the caffeine in tea just doesn’t cut it for me. I came home and slept on the couch for two hours, then woke up and watched the hockey game. I figured I would make a decision once the game was over whether I was going out or not.
New Year’s has never meant that much to me – there was a stretch of three years or so where I stayed home and relaxed, and then wondered what all the noise was about at midnight because I had completely forgotten. I don’t believe in forcing myself to go party, and even less do I believe in forcing myself to drink if I’m not in the mood. And being an introverted person at heart, I have to drink at large parties like the one I was going to attend tonight, because otherwise I’m pretty paralysed with shyness. People tend to disbelieve me when I say that, but it’s true – it’s work for me to be outgoing and talk to people in large groups. Tonight, with my energy level the state that it is, it was the better choice to stay home with Andy.