I could be in New York City right now counting down until the ball drops, but I'm not, and thank God. I hate New Year's Eve, you should too, and here's why:
The hype. I could stop here. Well, maybe I should tack on an "over." All December: So what are you doing? Where are you going? Who will you be with? Who are you kissing at midnight?!?!?! January 1: Everything you said, predicted, and planned all December did not come true.
You work the day of. Yes, the holiday revolves around nighttime activities, but unless the government or your boss lets you off, you are (supposed to be) working for 8+ hours the day of. Does my manager really expect productivity? Wait, my manager isn't here because they have leave they're going to lose if they don't take it. ME TOO. Meanwhile, I'll just browse Facebook and group text with the people I'm meeting in T-6 hours on company time.
Alcohol. I'm not at all a prohibitionist, but I am also not fond of holidays centered around drinking. As a twenty-something, there is an underlying assumption that I will consume at least a bottle of Andre's if not 5 - 10 additional shots. Basically, you're aiming for a hangover - or at least a very lethargic next day. What an awesome way to start a new year. Lots of promise in grogginess and migraines.
Bar covers. This is the thing where you all my friends fork over $100+ to get into an all-you-can-drink/eat/dance bar for the night and then wait in an extra long line for the bathroom while the ball drops because you really have to pee from all those drinks. Yeah, I'll keep my $100 and pregame on my friend's balcony. Wait, it's too cold for the balcony.
Romance. Basic people get engaged over the holidays (and if they miss that train, then Valentine's). And, God help us, this is last call: If they didn't propose on Christmas, then that ring's coming out with the champagne. Get it away from me! Or, if marriage isn't looming (*crosses self*), you're supposed to kiss someone at midnight with your chapped lips (thank you, winter weather) and maybe touch their dry hair with your chapped hands, too. Fairytales do come true.
The gym is closed January 1.* I don't even need to cite statistics to tell you a common New Year's resolution is to be healthier - which often involves a gym membership. I am a gym rat. I especially want to go to the gym after a night spent drinking (so weird, isn't it) - but I can't, so screw you, New Year's. (And yes, I can run outside, but now they're all these slowpokes on the sidewalks trying to be healthy *jogs by with fully tinted sunglasses*.)
*I'm told some gyms are open on January 1, bless them, but read below:
The gym is busy. Once it finally opens, it's like Black Friday - except you're waiting in line for the Elliptical. Or where are the 20-pound dumbbells?! Oh great, Barbie over there has them, but she's currently Insta-ing her neon sneakers.
What are we looking forward to? Gray January skies? Snow? Singles Awareness Day? Better yet, tax season.
So tonight I will sulk, flute glass in hand, and toast to misery, crowds, and hangovers. Cheers.