The bass in the music keeps pumping on and off. The girls are a few feet away dancing, eyes closed and body bumping with the music. I have a wide grin on my face, from one jawline to another. My drink sits in front of me, the whiskey playing a crude game of tag with the ice cubes.
And suddenly I want to go home. My eyes are heavy and my ear hurts from the throbbing of the speakers. I can feel my headache start to worsen as the thousandth remix of “Shape of You” plays. My hands get fidgety and I check my phone for the time.
That’s what it feels like having a short social battery. I like going out. I like seeing my friends and having a few drinks, maybe dancing for a little bit. But I’ll be equally eager to go home, put on my basketball shorts, and fire up FIFA before going to bed.
And it has nothing to do with the people I’m out with. I’m almost always having fun, and seeing my friends is great too. Yet there is a change of pace when the music I want to dance too gets frustrating, and the drink stops being appealing.
So, to everyone I’ve ever upset by going home early or not staying out till three in the morning, I apologize. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with you, all about the fact that my bed is super comfy and my comforter beckons me like a sultry mistress.