My New Year’s resolutions are always the same: to curb my emotional dependency on Diet Coke (my personal best is three months), to be more consistent in the gym and to be better with money. This year, I’ve thrown out those vague, unrealistic self-improvement goals in favour of a goal I will actually stick to: saying no to friend catch-ups.
By this, I don’t mean that I won’t see any of my pals again. I’m talking about rejecting a specific, exhausting dynamic that has come to dominate my calendar. You know the one: bi-monthly meet-ups conducted in a cramped bar, music blaring, voices raised as we rattle through the same checklist: “How’s work?”, “How’s your mom?”, “Any holidays planned?” Instead of making memories, I squeeze in a “quick coffee” on a Saturday morning or a few rushed small plates at a restaurant after work, before we scatter back to our respective responsibilities, slightly drained and none the wiser.
