weekend nights

i see all of these people (some young, some not-so-young) who are poised to take on whatever adventure this friday night might have in store. the teensy-tiny denim miniskirts which barely cover anything, the ill-fitting tank tops, it's all on disply for an alcohol-fueled evening. and i watch all of this with judgemental, jealous eyes.

i cannot be a part of that. not that i would, because it's not my thing, but the point is that i don't even really have the option. i need to be available in case of an emergency; i can't be hung-over tomorrow when i need to be cleaning and cooking and trying to decipher what my mom is saying while keeping my father from blowing his top over the slightest thing.

of course i could go out of i wanted to. i always have that choice. but i'm so tired when i get home from my parents' house, and sometimes so depressed even after it's been a good day, that it's rarely worthwhile for me to go drinking because it multiplies my depression. i've never really been a drinker, but i'm really cutting down now. i could be in a great mood, and one drink will make me so upset that i just want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and bawl my eyes out. so, easier to lay off the sauce than deal with that.

but the point being that i'm jealous of the carefree lifestyle, of the never worrying about anything or being the adult or responsibility or things like that. and i know that i'll never really be able to go back. and it sucks.