One week back at school, and I’m noticing a vicious cycle beginning to occur in my life. At night, my friends go into Chicago to have fun and make memories, while I keep going to bed. Then, in the morning, I feel guilty for not having fun the night before, but not enough to go out that night, either.
This would probably be the point where I write, “Dear Sylvie, what do I do? How do I remedy my behavior?” But this isn’t an advice column and, in any case, I am the columnist, so that wouldn’t work.
In my senior year of high school, I took a computer science class where I learned that programmers often consult inanimate rubber ducks when debugging code. The duck serves as a sort of sounding board, which I appreciated at the time, given that my collection was already pretty sizable.
I tried to consult a couple of my ducks for this piece, but they looked at me kind of funny and offered no advice.
I can think of at least one good reason why I don’t love venturing into the city at night. I often get bored sooner than my friends, and getting home can be rather costly.
Chicago to Evanston in an Uber past 10 p.m. can be more than 50 dollars, easily. That’s a lot of money to shell out every time I find myself checking my phone to see what time it is, rather than engaging with my peers.
And, as comfortable as I am on public transportation, I find the “L” to be a little seedy at night. At least on the subway back at home in New York, it feels like there’s only one or two designated cars to avoid. Not the “L”: any car is fair game.
I don’t know why I always find myself over things sooner than my peers. It’s kind of like a short attention span, I guess. Even when I’ve tried to commit to things in the long-term, I don’t stick with them for more than a year or two: baseball, violin, soccer, gymnastics, the list goes on.
Going to the city at night with my friends isn’t like learning to play violin in second grade, where I would say that my bow needed more rosin so I could sit out for a few minutes. I know I like having fun with my friends — it isn’t an activity I’m ever going to ask my mom to please let me stop doing the next year.
And, as I pointed out to my boss the other day when contemplating whether I should go out that night (I didn’t), I won’t make memories in college if I keep choosing to stay in.
It’s time to face the potentially too loud and grating music: It’s worth spending an hour or so bored, even if I would rather be sleeping to avoid shelling out the big bucks on an early Uber home. Any tiredness in the morning will be worth the satisfaction of knowing that I took the brave choice — not the safe choice — the night before.
Because, really, it’s freaking cold in Chicago, so choosing to spend my evenings partially outside instead of in my nice warm bed is super brave. And when you (maybe) see me out next week, you should reaffirm that.
Sylvie Slotkin is a Medill junior and author of “Communal Shower Thoughts.” She can be contacted at [email protected] or by fax. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.
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