I’m sure that by now we are all know the craziness the weekend brings. People try to come up with metaphors and similes all the time to explain what the weekend is like. I have figured out the perfect metaphor now. The perfect metaphor for the weekend is your bedroom. It perfectly embodies all the stages that you go through on the weekend.
Friday night:
Most likely, you will clean your room and make you bed. Maybe you even change the sheets and spray a little Febreeze to get the place smelling fresh. You turn the lights low and have everything set up perfectly for when you return with your special someone. The room looks perfect and you can’t wait to start the night. The girls are coming in and out and you can’t keep track of everything that everyone asked to borrow. By the time you leave the room, you have not only changed your clothes about 50 times, but your room has a nice layer or clothing strung across the floor.
Saturday morning:
You wake up the next morning and take a look at your room. The night before made its way back to the dorm and it really left its mark. All the clothes are piled by the bed. Maybe there is a glass of water by the bed. You might be half dressed, depending on how the night really went. All in all your room fully reflects how the night ended. For me, it means that normally I’m passed out in a pile of clothes with a friend next to me and my roommate in the other bed – all of us still reeling from the night’s events.
My room is the place I start and end my night. So, depending on how my night goes the next day my room is a graveyard of the aftermath of the night.