Enter into the happiness.
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Because I said so

In which I defend my right to stay my ass at home.

 It's summer break! Everybody's hanging out and having a good time! Everyone's inviting me to concerts and parties and dinner in the city, and I have to go!

False.

I mean, I usually want to go. I'm a fairly social person; I really enjoy being around my friends and soaking up their energy. What I'm not so fond of is the drain on my wallet that comes from having to spend money on Waffle House or Chick-Fil-A every time someone wants to hang out. I don't like the stress that comes from having to coordinate rides to and from various locations and not being able to arrive or leave when I want to, since I can't drive. And I'm really not a fan of the fatigue that drags me down when I spend one too many late nights catching up with friends over popcorn and potato chips in someone's basement. Call me a grandma if you want, but I've come to realize that

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

This is not me announcing my withdrawal from all friendships. I am not becoming a hermit. I like people and, you know, civilization far too much to do all that. But the truth is that my friends aren't going anywhere, Waffle House isn't going anywhere, and fancy little quaint dinner spots in the city aren't going anywhere. You know what is going somewhere? ALL MY MONEY AND TIME. I spend so much of both when I accept every single invitation to hang with the boys, and I've reached a point where I need to start investing more of it on me.

People tend to take any rejection as a personal attack, whether or not that's how it was intended. That's understandable in some settings, but not necessarily all the time. If someone invites me out to lunch and I decline, why am I expected to provide a complicated reason? Why? Maybe it's a special occasion--maybe it's your birthday or you got promoted, I don't know--and in that case, it's a bit less forgivable if I turn you down. That's the type of situation in which my rejection could be viewed as a sign that I don't particularly value our relationship. But if we're just doing brunch for brunch's sake?

Girl.

If I don't want to go, I'm going to say no and I will not feel bad about it. What I'm not about to do is invent some convoluted excuse about having to pick my aunt up from the airport or dogsit for my cousin's neighbour's cousin. Nah. Honesty is a virtue. We live in a society that simultaneously pushes people to put themselves first and villainizes them for doing so. I love my friends dearly--I really, really do--but the fact of the matter is that I love myself more. If I find myself growing irritable at the end of every gathering because I'm out of the house when all I want to do read a book and go to sleep, then I owe it to myself and my friends to remove myself from the equation and redistribute my time.

As I mulled over this topic, I realized that "I don't feel like it" is a perfectly acceptable reason for declining an invitation. There's obviously no need to be rude with it (unless you really don't like your friends, in which case you're probably looking for a more permanent separation than I). But really. If you know you're only accepting that party invitation because your friend will be mad at you for turning her down, grow a backbone. Tell her you're not up to partying. Stay home. Eat some soup. Your body and your wallet will thank you.

As selfish as it may feel, you have to figure out when it's necessary to put yourself first. Nobody wants a friend who only thinks of himself; however, your interactions with others will be more meaningful and beneficial to all parties involved if you take time to reflect on whether you even want to be around these people. Don't let yourself get tired of your friends from overexposure. People die from exposure. Keep that in mind, and I'll see y'all next time.

LØTA