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Flatmates were going out last night to some rock club, which actually sounded quite good and I was tempted. One tried to convince me, he did quite well actually because I was counting how many hours sleep I would get should I get home at 4am and have to get up for work the next day. Then I fully thought about it, being in London at 4am and having to find a bus to get home and the loud music and the drunk people and the lack of sleep and the feeling rough the next day at work and decided pfft so not worth it.

OK when did this happen? When did I get old? I've always been quite sensible but then I've never really been one to look out for future Andrea, normally I only care about present Andrea. Future Andrea normally hates this but when it comes to things like that I can act on a urge and present Andrea loves me for it. So this being said when did I become this person who thinks staying at home on a Friday night and getting to bed early is more appealing than going out and painting the town red? Although had it have been Jen doing the persuading and we were going to, I don't know, The Buff club maybe, I reckon it would have been a different story. Or at least that's what I am telling myself. 23:21

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