There are many positives to being a single lady right now. My time is mine, to do whatever I want with it. I don’t have to hang out with creepy, second cousins twice removed from a family that is not my own. I don’t have to pretend to like things like Modern Warfare or tires on a truck and I have no responsibility to my kitchen, which means I can order as much take out as I want with no judgement.

As heavenly as all of that is sounding to some of you there is some negatives that come with my current single status. One in particular makes me crave the day that I’m finally in a somewhat functional relationship again. I sometimes think I’d even take all those others things back just to get to that point again. So what is this annoying thing ruining the enjoyment I should feel during this time of my life? The weekends.

Not seeing the problem yet? Well let me explain, it’s frustrating because I come home at the end of the week exhausted, but I can no longer just put on my sweats that are staring at me, begging me to wear them and slip into the easy comfort of the spinster life. No, instead I quickly drink 1 to 2 energy drinks, shower, re-do the hair and makeup and slip into something slightly more uncomfortable than what I was wearing all day at work. Only then am I ready for a single girl’s Friday night.

Because what else am I going to do, sit at home and slowly become the cat lady I know I could easily fit the role of? No. Now, these weekend nights don’t have to include anything crazy or ridiculous but it has seemed to become a requirement to have some sort of a social life. Whether it’s going to a bar, or just meeting friends for a game night. My aching, high heeled feet need to step outside into the real world and experience life.

Nothing good ever came from being a life-long couch potato. Or so I’m told.

I experimented with that lifestyle before. When I was in a relationship I could go months with just sitting on my couch all weekend catching up on my Netflix, never interacting with the outside world except for the ones who popped up on my screens. I was able to get away with this because he was gone, off to sea and it wasn’t as pathetic (or so I thought) to have a boyfriend and do that sort of thing, it was really considered loyal if anything. I was only required to get all done up and drag my butt outside for the weekends when he was home. Easy.

So now it’s back to the work part of being single. You can be sure though, that while I’m doing all of this, I’m still anxiously anticipating the day me and my sweatpants are reunited in all our lazy glory.