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John Mulaney famously said that canceling plans is like heroin, and I absolutely agree with that sentiment. There isn’t a rush quite like bailing on plans at the last minute, and while a tinge of guilt more than likely accompanies your excuse for why you can’t make it out (or maybe you just straight up said “no, I don’t feel like going anymore”) nothing feels as good as laying on your couch or bed and just watching a bomb-ass two and a half hour movie with a glass of red and some snacks.
By the way, Brawl In Cell Block 99 and The Killing of a Sacred Deer are two relatively new movies that are a perfect companion to drinking in bed with flamin’ hot Cheetos and some popcorn. That feeling of canceling plans is one that, as I mentioned, does come with some guilt though. And the farther out in the week that you made plans with someone to visit a new bar or see a movie, the guiltier you are going to feel.
The following situation happens to me all of the time. I’ll be super bored at work on a Monday or Tuesday afternoon, and in the heat of a coffee-induced moment, I’ll text a buddy I haven’t seen in a while and ask what he has planned for the weekend.
That early on in the week, I know the text I’m going to get back will be something like “No plans yet. Sup?” I’ll be so jacked up from the coffee and the sheer prospect of the weekend that I’ll set plans up to meet at a bar after work on Friday.
The problem with all of this arrives as Friday gets closer and closer. Thursday night, I’ll be laying in bed exhausted, thinking about the plan to meet my friend the following night and just thinking about how after work on Friday all I’m going to want to do is order a Jet’s Hawaiian pizza with ranch dressing on the side and sit on the couch in my skivvies.
When you really think about it, making plans for drinks or dinner with friends with a week to go before the act of meeting up is fucking insane. There’s so much life to live in between a Monday or Tuesday afternoon text message to go out and actually meeting up on a Friday or Saturday night.
The ROI on that is low as hell, and it’s why I try to only set plans with no more than 24 hours to go. One day’s notice is enough time to know if your mind and body can handle getting fucked up or if you need to recharge the old batteries.
I think when you make plans a week out and you cancel the day of you’re going to get labeled a flake. Expectations have been getting built up to a fever pitch in this instance. When you cancel plans after they were made one day prior? The blow is softened, and it just doesn’t feel as concrete as something that was set up days in advance.
Obviously, there are extenuating circumstances to this 24-hour rule. Weddings, baby showers, Bumble dates, and major drinking holidays like St. Pat’s and Cinco de Mayo – these all require at least one weeks worth of notice. I’m just saying if you want to grab a pint with the lads and watch a little footie on a random Friday or Saturday, keep the planning to 24 hours Anything more than that and you’re just going to hurt people’s feelings when you inevitably cancel on them. K.I.S.S. is the name of the game when it comes to meeting up with friends on the weekend. Keep it simple, stupid. .
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