Tuesday, 21 March 2017

One Saturday Night

Saturday nights are known as the best nights, everyone lives for the Saturday night and I've come to the realisation that Saturday's ruin lives and are the worst day of the week, seriously!!! Ban Saturday nights!!! Take them off the weekly rota...let them be gone!!!!
 Don't get me wrong not so long ago I was the Queen of Saturday nights, I loved Saturday nights going out, I loved partying and there wasn't one Saturday night where you wouldn't find me bopping around the town. However call it my old age if you must but sorrowfully it's gone rare I leave my house past 9pm on a Saturday night, unless it's to do a trip around the block with my dog. Like I said, I don't whether it's my old age or the fact myself and all my friends now realise that you do actually have to work weekends and not all your wages can be flogged on wild Saturday nights, no matter how much I wish they could      :-(
 Last weekend of course was different as it was Paddy's weekend so there was no choice but to go out and have a few, I mean that couldn't be avoided if you're Irish and if you didn't go out last weekend then you're technically leaving down the country so that doesn't count but it was the weekend before, the Saturday night and having walked the length and breath of Carrick Beg on my own I started to think about Saturday nights and what they once meant to me compared to what they meant now and of course how life can change thanks to one Saturday night, and when you start processing it it's scary!! Or at least it was to me!!

First off lets think of the money, it's a dodgy place to start I know but when I think of all the money I've spent on one night out it's ridiculous. Firstly there's finding something new to wear, buying the tan, getting the hair done. Then depending how big the night is, if it's a big one like a 21st you'll want the make up done so there's €30 flogged to Inglot. Then the pre drinks - I like to drink Prosecco or Malibu so that's another 20 gone and that's just before you leave the house. Then there's taxi's, busses, entry fees, shots and curry cheese chips on the way home all in all you'll spend whatever is on your card and that's the way that is and it used to never bother me.
So what it's Sunday morning and I've just spent my entire weeks wages I'll get paid again on Friday but then you realise petrol, insurance, college, a new car, survival and I'd just flogged €60 on one night out....AHHHHH IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY!!!!! WHY YOU SO STUPID LYNDA!!!!!

And that's just the minor stuff what about everything else, It's safe to say I've ruined my life on Saturday nights out, unless we're including college where I seemed to ruin my life every Monday in the Tower, Wednesday in The Foundry and then of course again on the Saturday back home and this is what really struck me last weekend.
On the Friday night life can be great, Saturday morning, still great you wake up happy, not feeling sick, you've money in your purse, you could have a boyfriend or even some lad secretly up your sleeve and then you go out and shit hits the fan. What happens then? you come home wallowing in sin, sick, delving in self pity oh and single with no lad to even text (unless it's an 'sorry I'm not always psycho' and ALL THANKS TO ONE FLIPPING SATURDAY NIGHT!!!!!!

Then don't get me started on the phones, see them phones!!!! They should be banned from 9pm Saturday nights until 8am Sunday mornings (unless you end up at home house session and don't get to bed until 7am then they're banned until 2pm, or until you're alive enough to realise PHONES RUIN LIVES!!!!!)
There isn't a worse feeling in the world than when you pick up the phone go into your messages and you read the antics you'd been saying the night before, whether you got too trustful, too truthful, too abusive or your blocked it's absolutey shit craic, and then it gets even worse!!!!
 Onto Snapchat you go and see a snap you sent five hours ago had been opened and never replied too WELL FLIP YOU THEN!!!!!!!! ..........then it hits..  WHAT THE F*CK DID I SAY?!!!!!!!!!! 

Then you realise you need to get up because you've about forty minutes to make it into work and as you sit up the room starts to spin....why am I on the Waltzers?!! I didn't ask for a trip to Tramore LET ME GET OFF I HAVE CUSTOMERS TO SERVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then there's the manager to avoid 'were you out last night' .. Out?!! Of a school night?!! I'd never!!! Only to be smelling of tequila, Jager and even more sin!! 

After a litre of water and two neurofen a bit of sleep and a Sunday dose of Room To Improve things seem to start going okay, ah look maybe it wasn't that bad...we'll live another week..
THEN THE FLASHBACKS START!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's that then, you throw up a little pic to Instagram just to let everyone you really don't care about know how good you looked last night and how 'EPIC' everything was, when in reality you're in bed by 9pm, looking like a dog, cradling the fear oh and a bucket snapping out to your real friends about how you're 'Never drinking again, I don't even care' when you know it's going to happen next weekend all over again.

Well, that is unless you're me and have seemed to un optionally giving up on the Saturday night antics, either way Saturday night you've been a blast. 

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