There's so much goddamn stuff to do that it's impossible to figure out what's actually worth your while. Many times this results in the most relaxing option possible- staying in.
It feels pathetic not to be taking advantage of all the many opportunities that await if you'd just go out your front door. But the very idea of all those opportunities is often too much. Sometimes this makes me terribly afraid of becoming the next Little Edie, never leaving my apartment, spending hundreds a week on Delivery.com, having all my groceries delivered, and becoming immensely fat.
Then I leave the apartment, and I'm always exhausted by the time I get home, relieved to be entering a calm place I can call my own with mellow lighting and where my music floods out of actual speakers instead of being shoved into my ear canals with headphones.
In fact, it's fair to say that for all the time we spend out, we need to spend some equivalent amount in just to recover and unwind.
But that doesn't seem to make me feel any less guilty.
(Google)
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