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Now that you graduated college, you realize you actually haven't slept in four years.
You get nervous reuniting with your college friends after a few months since you started to let yourself go.
Then when you finally do meet up with your friends, they ask what's the latest gossip on your love life.
And don't even get me started on, "So are you working anywhere?"
You see your friends who are still in college raging on Tuesday nights and you're so confused how they can do that.
You laugh when you see some of the "crazy ones" from your college still going hard on the weekends because you think they're all idiots.
But then it comes that time of the year where your friends start planning a reunion to go out for a birthday, a special occasion, or God forbid just for the hell of it.
When you decline, they try to convince you to come: "Can't you take off work?" "Can you make it next weekend instead?"
Welp. Now you've really done it.
It's D-Day. They show up at your door and you are just. not. having. it.
However, since you stupidly chose annoying ass, peppy bitches as your friends, they come in anyway and force you to get ready right now.
"Okay! C'mon! Get your makeup on, we're leaving in 20!"
"OHMYGOD! Let me do smokey eyes on you!"
Okay, so, cool. We're at the bar. We're standing on line outside. In heels. No jackets. In February.
Now that you've gotten inside, you just want a strong drink to make this night somewhat tolera-- I'm sorry. Did you say ELEVEN dollars?!
With the tiny, over-priced, lemon-less drink in hand, you make your way to the dance floor and see two half-naked girls grinding on each other...
...Some guys fist fighting to the death...
...That couple in the corner making a baby...
...And a dude up-chucking some sort of purpley-green goop all over a completely oblivious girl.
After a long night of horrifying and traumatizing experiences that you will never be able to unsee, you seek refuge at an empty bar stool and you try to stay awake with all your might.
The bar is closing. You see the light at the end of the tunnel. But your friends suggest hitting up the new hookah lounge down the block that's open until 4.
You finally escape the party psychopaths and return to the comfort and solace of your home.
Since you went to bed about 6 hours past your usual bedtime, you wake up the next morning thinking it's been a week since you've been alive.
Later, you go online and find so many unnecessarily tagged photos of yourself looking like a sweaty, miserable drag queen with your eyes half closed because of the camera's flash.
Group Text: "OMG! Guys that was so much fun! :) ;) :* What do you bitches wanna do next weekend?"
So what am I doing after college, you may ask? Well, I make no money, I don't go out, and I watch a lot of Netflix.
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