Liesbeth is becoming an old woman and is turning things around

My New Year's resolution for 2015 is to go out more. You might be surprised, but I am becoming a dramatically old woman who prefers to spend an evening watching series on the couch than standing in the club until deep into the night. In fact, I can hardly remember the last time I was even in a club. And that's strange, because there was a time when I always went home last. In fact, there was a time when I worked for an event agency and therefore spent three nights a week in the club until 07:00 for my job. And I loved it. So things need to change, I'm still not 30 for another four years, so the time to never go home again is now.

If I look at my calendar now, I see that I have no plans for Saturday night yet. The first thing I think is, “oooh how lovely, just a night of nothing and then on Sunday fresh and fruity without a hangover on.” Ehm, hallooooo?! Without realizing it, I have become the type that prefers to go to bed on time because “then I really get something out of my weekend.” Last Friday, I put myself to bed at 21:30 with a sleeping pill. Just a nice little nap. Really, how elderly is that?

I don't have that, I couldn't care less what happens in the city

I still go out sometimes, regularly go for a drink with friends and drink more wine than is good for me but that is limited to the pub or someone's house and rarely moves to the disco. Last week, I had dinner with a dear friend who, despite his full-time job, is in the disco almost every Friday and Saturday. He doesn't understand my staying-in behavior, and conversely, I don't understand how he can manage to come to the office on Monday with a double hangover. On a night at home, he says, “if I wake up on Saturday morning without having gone out, I think: Oh fuck, I missed a Friday night in Amsterdam!” This gentleman has a fairly serious form of FoMo, and that is exactly where I go wrong. I have a pretty serious lack of FoMo.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, FoMo stands for Fear Of Missing Out. In other words: you are terrified of missing an awesome party, so you make sure you are always everywhere. I don't have that, I couldn't care less what happens in the city but indeed miss all the fun parties because of it. Then I lie comfortably on the couch with a purring Poes Disco on my lap and I am quite satisfied. But well, I really do love dancing, and wine and music and friends, and if I do end up in the disco, I always enjoy it. But having to go out just for the sake of going out, no, I've had enough of that.

Anyway, I am now happily telling all my FoMo-having friends that I need to go out more, and that they should keep me updated on all their disco plans. Tonight I have another wine-drinking appointment with a friend but in a very trendy place in Amsterdam, right across from a similarly trendy disco. So who knows. And then I can enjoy lounging at home on the couch recovering from Friday. I may not be in the disco, but I do have a Disco on my lap and that is at least just as festive.