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College evenings were pretty straightforward. You either partied, studied, or dicked off while pretending to study. One of the biggest revelations for me after I graduated was that my evenings are actually mine–all mine. Besides the time consumed by sitting and contemplating how we ended up here, why we’re still poor, and where the hell people are finding all these people to marry, the hours of five-ish to whenever we deem appropriate for bedtime is time where we have free reign. I’m no sociologist, but you can learn a lot about a person from his or her evening activities.
Either your job is super stressful and you just need a mind-numbing release or you are one of those people who has seen everything, and this is when you add to your “seen it” repertoire. Both of these approaches are respectable. I wish I was more hip to popular TV culture, and for someone with Netflix and HBO GO, I really should be. However, I’m a flipper. I spend more time flipping through my options trying to decide what to watch than I do actually just watching something. Evening TV bingers have much more focus and stamina for paying attention, and, in turn, are probably much better at their day jobs. Or maybe they’re just lazy as shit, who knows.
No matter what you do with your evenings, an hour of it should likely be set aside to attempt to curtail our ever-dwindling metabolisms. The freshman 15 was a thing for some, but the postgrad 20 to 30 is the real issue that begs for attention. Any day I pull this off is a win in my book. I wish I was one of those people who enjoyed working out. I just don’t, and it is by far the worst part of my day. We all feel awesome after we do it, but getting there is the metaphorical biting the bullet of my existence. If you truly like dedicating your evenings to the gym, you’re a better person than I am, and extremely motivated. I also assume you’re a liar or you’ve at least brainwashed yourself.
You get up for work extremely early, yet you have an issue with going to bed at 8 p.m. Either that or you’ve had trouble adjusting from a 10 to 12 hours-per-night sleep schedule down to six to eight. As a professional napper myself, I’m a big proponent of naps. You won’t catch any flak from me here. The real people we should worry about are the ones who say, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” The amphetamine train only takes you so far, dudes.
You make a shit ton more money than most of us if you do this more than once or twice a week. If you do it more days per week than you don’t, you either work in sales, “have to for the job,” and have access to a company expense account, you’re a try-hard, or you just have a large budget and a borderline alcohol addiction. But hey, we’re not here to judge. Just to observe.
I don’t consider myself an expert at much, but I know all about drinking at home. I used to love the bars and the people who frequent them. These days, I’ve realized I’m the coolest person I know to drink with, and classic rock YouTube videos and I get along just fine. (Jesus, did my dad just chime in?) In all seriousness, drinking in is cheaper, you don’t have to drive, people can come to you if they feel the need, and there’s absolutely no judgmental eyes when you order a bottle of wine all for yourself from your fridge. Don’t worry about the concerned looks from neighbors; I just assume they have run out and are scoping out my house booze stock. The people who drink at home have come to terms with their needs, their budget, and the fact that nothing cool is likely going on anywhere else. Realists.
If you clean, grocery shop, run errands, cook dinner, etc., I’m in the market for a personal assistant. However, I don’t have anything to pay you with besides bottled water and snacks. I’d say boxed wine, but I’m too busy drinking it solo on my patio after I’ve taken a nap and possibly forced myself to workout, just before I settle in to TV binge.
Basically, there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything we want or need to do. So, do whatever the hell you want with your evenings. You’re young, your liver should still be kicking it, and who really gives a shit how many dishes are in your sink, how big your laundry pile is, or how many hours you spend indulging in streaming television technology? Take advantage of it before you accidentally end up with a tiny human or some other free-time inhibitor requiring your immediate attention. Yikes!