nobody will believe it takes me actual, dedicated effort to go out on the town. i swear to you, it’s true.
10pm drinks @ LKF, @ 9:45pm i peel myself away from the book i’m reading The McKinsey Way and throw on a sundress and low heels and saunter out the door, as i reach the 2nd floor platform i catch my own reflection in the neighbor’s metal door and do a double-take…
sh*t maybe i should wear some makeup—back home i go.
i give my face the bare minimum 2 minutes of painting and then run out again.
J & G were already waiting for me @ the bar, as the live band belts out No Doubt’s Don’t Speak …
i feel underdressed compared to G’s leopard print tube dress and J’s sleek grey jumper. 
1 hour later we switch bars. and i meet an entourage of bankers and traders and artists and wannabes i cannot remember the names of.
i make a concentrated effort for eye contact, and genuinely take an interest in what people are saying about their respective lives, careers, relationships…
but i can’t help it if my mind launches away suddenly into an outer space dimension and doesn’t come back for a good 10 minutes!?
by 1am i decide i can’t take it anymore–i declare to my friends i’m leaving and spend a mere 5 minutes doing double air-kisses and making some stupid excuse about getting up early and decline protests to head to Prive…and walk the 6 minute walk home–alone and very much sober.
is this what it needs to take every weekend to “meet people?” i frankly find this all exhausting…i’d much rather curl up with a yummy book, a glass of red, and a bubble-bath.
except i don’t have a bathtub…
my point being i have to actively take counter-intuitive steps to feel like i am not a shadow of my former self.
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