Here are the top five things I remember thinking and can’t believe I actually used to think that:
- Why would you go out before eleven p.m.? Nothing fun happens until then.
- If I can just get three hours sleep, that will be fine.
- No worries. I can sleep anywhere – the couch, the floor, whatever.
- Come on! It’s Saturday night! We can’t just stay home!
- I’m not ready to go home. Let’s go to Waffle House — it’s still open.
I think you’ll notice a prevailing theme. I used to go out and do stuff, and going out and doing stuff and being with my friends was a priority over creature comforts and bodily functions like sleep. I used to go places. I visited friends and family all over the world. I learned to scuba dive in a foreign country. I’ve ridden in helicopters and seen a lot of great bands in concert.
Now? If I’m out of bed after ten p.m. it’s a wild night. My idea of the perfect Saturday night is at home in my pj’s petting my dog.
I guess that’s part of getting older. Alcohol in any quantity gives me heartburn. 22-year-old me would be aghast.
Now, but for the fact that I have a job and friends that won’t let me, I’m more or less a hermit. If you see me somewhere outside of the house or office, you need to be honored that I went. That doesn’t happen often, especially if it requires me to drive at night. My husband is worse than me. I’m writing this on a Monday, and according to Life 360 he hasn’t left the house since Tuesday last week, and that only because he had a doctor’s appointment. I used to call him sweetie and darling and any number of pet names. Now? I call him my hermit buddy.ul
I like having a hermit buddy. I’ve been romanced, I’ve been out to the club, I’ve gone bar hopping. Been there, done that, not terribly interested in doing it again. I’ve reached a point where I’m happy to be unadulterated me with a person who doesn’t seem to notice if I’m wearing an evening gown or flannel pants; a face full of makeup or none at all. Loud places irritate me. Crowds make me crazy. I like sleeping. I like laying around in bed when I awaken, processing my dreams and organizing my thoughts. I like going to bed knowing I have at least eight hours before I have to get out of it.
So, call me boring if you wish. I have a half-century of stories that say otherwise, and a half-century of wisdom that allows me not to care what you think. I’ll be at home with my hermit buddy, petting my dog and/or reading a book, maybe knitting a scarf, and you can just go on with your bad self, doing whatever. You’ll get here. And when you do, I hope you have a buddy. If not, I’ll be your buddy, but I’m still not leaving my house.
 Ideally, the same pj’s I put on Friday night after work because nothing I did all day on Saturday required me to get dressed.
 I don’t see so great at night. I can drive at night, but it requires so much concentration and sticking to the main, well-lit drag, that I go out of my way not to.
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Lori B. Duff is an award-winning author who practices law on the side. Her latest book, “If You Did What I Asked in the First Place” was awarded the Gold Medal for humor in the Foreword INDIES awards in 2019. You can follow her on Twitter at @LoriBDuff and on Facebook. For more blogs written by Lori, click here. For more information about Lori in general, click here. If you want Lori to do your writing for you, click here. If you want Lori to help you market your book, click here.