Why I’d Rather Spend A Night By Myself Than With Anyone Else

7:30 pm: Put on my pink tie dye monogrammed terry cloth robe, wrap my hair in a towel hat, and complete the look with those L.L. Bean furry moccasins that feel like clouds. This is the best night ever and I’m fucking killing it.

By

Aily Torres
Aily Torres

6:33 pm: Leave work in a harried mess to make a 7pm drinks. Uber surge. Lyft surge. Gett – can’t deal. Why did I cut this so close? Why do I do this to myself!?

6:39 pm: Finally hail unsexy yellow cab and dramatically throw myself into it unnecessarily.

6:41 pm: Send a casual text – “On my way xx” – conveying that I haven’t forgotten about this plan, totally budgeted my time correctly, and definitely have my shit together.

6:41 ½ pm:  See typing bubble, then it disappears, see typing bubble again, then it disappears.

6:42 pm: Phone rings and my friend feels terrible and has to cancel last minute because of something I honestly forgot because WAIT.

DID. I. JUST. GET. THE. NIGHT. TO MYSELF!?

6:45 pm: Redirect the cab to my studio apartment and sprawl my stuff out everywhere because this is PURE JOY. I explain to the cabbie *acting therapist* that this is a momentous occasion because I get to go home to my apartment and be completely alone. He is confused. I smile deliriously.

7 pm: Cab driver drops me off and is definitely worried about my mental state. But I don’t care. You must understand. I am going home to my solo-apartment on a weeknight.

7:02 pm: Enter esteemed 7L. Audibly greet my place and all of its contents because when you live alone, you can talk to inanimate objects.

7:07 pm: Take indulgently long, hot shower. Sing. Shave. LIVE.

7:30 pm: Put on my pink tie dye monogrammed terry cloth robe (you know the one…), wrap my hair in a towel hat, and complete the look with those L.L. Bean furry moccasins that feel like clouds. This is the best night ever and I’m fucking killing it.

7:35 pm: Wait, I’m hungry now. Do I remember how to cook anything?

7:42 pm: After much thought, make eggs and frozen turkey meatballs from Trader Joes.

7:50 pm: Sit on my carpet in robe ensemble and eat “home cooked meal.” Light candles. Burn incense. THIS IS AMAZING!!!!

8:15 pm: Put in a load of laundry because now I’m just getting cocky.

8:30 pm: Start watching the first episode of Westworld because I guess this is a good time to check that off my to-do list.

9:26 pm: Pause Westworld to change out laundry. Also jesus, this show is so long. Who has time to watch this!?

9:50 pm: Westworld ends. Whoa. Cool. I ponder reality, existence, fate and free will for about three minutes.

9:53 pm: Decide that this show is realistically too long and I won’t watch the next one.

10:20 pm: Go get clothes and sheets out of dryer.

10:40 pm: Get ready for bed, do a quick scroll through social media. Thank the scheduling gods for bestowing this beautiful, completely non-noteworthy evening upon me without warning because it makes me appreciate it that much more.

11 pm: Say goodnight to my apartment (I really do do this…is that weird) and promise myself to make more plans to not make plans. Thought Catalog Logo Mark


About the author

Hayley Brooks

I’m a New York based twenty-something writer and creative producer who seeks the perfect balance between high and lowbrow.