Forcing myself to go out is almost always a good idea. I had a blast tonight. And now I’m all cuddled up and cozy in the boyfriend’s bed (my home away from home). I just wish he was here with me. Though I’m getting some pretty interesting drunken texts from him while he gets his party on in San Antonio.
Currently going back and forth on whether I’m going to keep the date I have scheduled with a girlfriend tonight or do what my introverted heart wants to do, which is go home, drink wine, cuddle my cat, and read.
I know I’ll have fun if I go, but I’d also love to go home and relax. I’m so tired and going out always feels like so much work.
There is no good answer.
I don’t know why I even make plans. Seriously. I always do this to myself.
I realized today that I have gotten so much better at small talk. It used to be incredibly painful for me, and now I just babble about whatever. I even initiate the conversation a lot of times (like today), which was previously unheard of.
I attribute it to having had cancer. I just don’t give a single fuck what most people think of me anymore. Having cancer makes you stop sweating the small stuff.
I’m trying to get myself psyched up to go out tonight, but really all I want to do is put on pajama pants, order pizza, pour a glass of wine, and start a new book.
I guess I should start getting ready to go.