Through the course of this post, I ask you to bear with me.
It is currently 2:31 in the morning. I have just gotten home from the bar, where I went with two of my girls from work. It's been a long few days, and we all needed to have some fun and dance away the weekend's frustrations. Such is working in the food business, your weekends are taken away from you.
But I digress.
I never go out to bars. A hot, crowded, loud, smelly room is not my idea of a good time. In fact, it used to be the spark for the biggest panic attacks I ever experienced. But I went to my first nightclub sometime in the past 6 months, and after escaping relatively unscathed I've occasionally ventured out since.
On Sundays, the grossest bar in Waterloo gives free cover to all food service industry workers, thus I found myself there tonight. I had a drink, danced with my girls, and was then approached by a guy and asked to dance.
Now, I have a very straight moral compass, but I'm also incredibly terrified of hurting anyone's feelings. So I said yes. And it was fine. There were no happenings that my boyfriend would have disapproved of, and my friend K danced with my dance partner's friend. All was fine.
Except it wasn't.
I wasn't necessarily overridden with guilt, but I did feel awful. And it wasn't because I thought what I was doing was wrong.
It was because I realized the setting and people were.
In that hot, sweaty, sticky bar I realized something very important about myself.
I don't want to go out to bars and clubs.
I don't want to have a few drinks and dance with strangers, no matter how nice they may be.
I want to stay at home, and eat junk food, and curl up on the couch or in bed with my laptop and Netflix.
I want to cuddle with my boyfriend, or dance with him to a slow song on the radio, not some club remix with too my synthesizer and bass.
I came home tonight deeply sad. I had a good time. I had fun. But I didn't want to be there. There were so many other things I would have enjoyed so much more, and even if I couldn't have them (the boyfriend is currently 4 hours away from me without access to a car) there were things that could have at least come close.
But going to a bar was not one of them.
(If you're curious, pizza and Smartfood popcorn would have been the next closest option.)
I think it's important that we all realize what we do and do not like to do. What does and does not make us happy. While I am capable of enjoying myself at the bar, it's similar to being sat in a chair at the dentist and having your teeth cleaned. You don't necessarily like it, but you don't HATE it either.
Anyway, it's 2:41 now. It's time for me to go to bed. This just felt like something I wanted to share with you.