Friday night live

What is this? Home??? On a Friday night? Wearing my ‘black furry’ (a soft, button-down men’s jacket)? Watching DVDs for goodness sake?

Clearly something is desperately wrong.

After a long day at work trying to solve an unsolvable problem, I finally gave up and came home, heating up the remnants of a rather good Thai Chilli Beef & Vegetable noodle mixture and parked myself in front of my box and watched a DVD. It only now occurs to me how sad this is.

Me. Becoming domesticated.

I should be out there in one of my many haunts, hitting the dance floor and partying on. I suppose I could still go out but that would require effort, and it’s cold. Plus I’ve only received one invitation to go out tonight. I’m used to getting at least 4 or 5 invitations every Friday night.

Can you see where I’m going with this?

Let’s call it the “Save Jo from Domesticity” campaign, and next Friday night I want to see some invitations to parties, I want to see some people I haven’t been out with before, and I want to see some serious dance floor action. Most of all, I want to be prevented from finding myself on a Friday night checking my email at 8:30pm. Because let’s face it, wearing my black furry at 8:30 on a Friday night is not where I thought I’d see myself at this time of my life.

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