And so it starts

Then with much merry-making, the beers were pulled out of the fridge and the whisky bottles out of theirs casks. “Cheers!” “Happy New Year” rung in the air. That’s the good part about a house party, not too many people and too much noise. There was a little music, some dancing. Two of my friends chose to dance raunchy. Both were guys. Not a very pretty sight. I don’t think I’ll ever warm up to Amsterdam.

This is sick!

I feel like I’m 50. I don’t feel like doing anything people at my age do. I don’t go clubbing, I can’t stay up all night, I have to sleep by 11 pm latest. Something’s really wrong with me. Or is it? Maybe there’s something wrong with others.