Confessions of a homebody

Sometimes I feel like I am betraying my generation.

I am a single thirty-something woman.  I have friends that want to meet after work for happy hour, which I enjoy but usually am too brain dead to participate.  In fact I have spent my Friday evening thus far in the company of ten people older than me by 15-30 years and then out with a friend for snacks, ignoring everyone that was at the bar because we wanted to catch up, all the while not being able to wait until I got home because I couldn’t wait to take a shower, change out of my work clothes, and veg in the recliner.

Am I older than my years or just anti-social?  Am I a loser for being content at home reading a book in the recliner until dinner or just sad?  Am I an oddball for wanting to rewatch the pilot episode of Burn Notice or just unusual.  I realize that many of my friends are out trolling downtown, and there is nothing wrong with that, but I feel like I outgrew that lifestyle by the time I was 20, much less now many years later.

And tomorrow?  Tomorrow I’m looking forward to hanging out at the house.  I have lilies to plant in the yard, a hammock to swing in for a few hours, a backyard to mow, a bathroom to clean, laundry to do, and photos to edit on the computer.  The scary thing?  I’m quite looking forward to staying at home for the day.

So here’s to all of us homebodies out there.  We may not be trendy, but we’re darned happy!

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