I recently had a friend stay with me for a few weeks. I met her in a hostel when arriving in Australia and we have been pretty close ever since despite most of our relationship happening interstate. For the first three months of living together in a hostel (yes, I lived in a hostel for three months) we got drunk most nights after work, whether going out or staying in we socialised with pretty much everybody and had a great time, heading to work the next morning bleary eyed and stinking of goon.
A year and a half later and I am now officially old.
Living again with Hostel Friend has made it very apparent to me that I may be slightly boring.
Hostel Friend rarely stays in, heading to BBQ’s and various other parties mid-week, yes MID-WEEK. Getting ridiculously drunk on nights out and falling asleep on the sofa/floor, not quite making it into bed. She eats a spoonful of peanut butter for breakfast and heads to whatever festival or event is on that day. After recently discovering that she is in fact a lesbian she is now on Brenda 24/7 checking out whether there are any prospective candidates in the area and organising dates throughout the week, the majority of which turn out to be dire.
I’m not saying that this isn’t great, it’s totally great, but I can’t keep up. I can’t go drinking on a Wednesday night anymore without having to call in sick and spend the entire next day with my head in a toilet. Sometimes I don’t want to go to a Gay Pride rally, not because I don’t support the cause but because I have a bathroom to clean and a house full of ants to exterminate. I feel as though it is close to blasphemy to admit that I don’t want to spend a night out at some city club because I’d rather stay in and watch two hours of My Kitchen Rules.
I’m boring now, that’s just the way it is. I don’t support recreational drug use and I don’t want to drink until I don’t know my own name. I can’t dance wildly with a pilled up middle aged gay man in pleather and feel comfortable about it. Even the mere thought of a one night stand makes me want to shower immediately and get an STI check.
Oh my God, I’m 50.