A Single Person’s Guide to Surviving New Year’s Eve

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A Single Person’s Guide to Surviving New Year’s Eve

Illustration: Sushant Ahire/Arré

I

have difficulty making decisions, but it’s never been a full-blown problem, solely because I could never decide if I cared enough to worry about this propensity for confusion. The last week, though, has pushed the needle of my self-loathing over my own flippant tendencies. As a true trend-setting hipster, I will endeavour to explain my misery in a Lemonadesque confessional, minus the music, the adultery, the Led Zeppelin-Kendrick Lamar quality of writing and Beyoncé level talent. What’s left, you wonder? Like Jay-Z, only some wanton shreds of my dignity blowing in the wind.

I have a moderate number of friends; those folks who like you even though you never respond to texts and are known to flake on one out of three drinking plans. These lovely people have been inviting me to their New Year’s Eve parties and I cannot decide what to do. So, like Yoncé, I’m taking you on my journey of indecision and growth as a woman and a party-pooper.

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