An Open Letter to Myself at 2 a.m.

Dear Self,

If you’re gazing at your phone and the time reads 2 a.m. on a weekend, I’m ordering you to leave wherever you are. The guy you’re flirting with is either too drunk or uninterested. If you’re unsure of how accurate I am, call Ian’s. If they’re closed, call Domino’s. If Domino's is closed, your eyes should be too — in bed. 

I want you to think about a normal night — when you’re not drinking — where you would be at this moment. If it’s 2 a.m., you're probably either sleeping or still doing work. Any of those two things are productive; but what you’re doing right now is just wasting time. You're sitting on your drunk ass, being completely unproductive. Just go home and sleep so you can at least be somewhat productive in the morning.

At 2 a.m., you’re either plastered or dead sober. None of these two options should make you feel better about being out this late. Being plastered at this time of night means you’ll probably regret most of the things you've done tonight; and being sober means that you’ve been out so long that all of the fun and life in you is gone. Either way, you’re left feeling like a sweaty, human hangover.

What to do now? I honestly hope you’re not considering staying out even later. The night is over, the streets are quiet, and drunk food is beyond your reach. It’s time to shut away your drunken antics for the night so you can find them again tomorrow.

Now, get up! Say “goodnight, I’m tired,” and leave the spot. It’s time.