Whenever I’m talking to someone and they ask me what my plans are for the weekend, I always want to tell the truth, but I always end up embellishing a little. Lately I’ve been asking myself why. (As you know if you’re reading this, there’s no way to predict what’s going to come out of my head, so keep reading at your own risk.)

The desire to embellish my weekend plans so they sound a little more interesting and more social stems from a mixture of insecurity, codependency, and shame, just to name a few reasons. It’s not that I want to be viewed as popular. It’s not that I want to look cool. It’s almost like I do it so for those five seconds I have something interesting to say. Then the moment passes and I feel relieved that I don’t have to talk about myself anymore. It’s true. I’d rather talk about you if you and I are engaging in good talk.

At the core: I’m afraid you’ll judge me for being lame and staying at home, I want to say the thing that you expect me to do on the weekends to make you happy, and I carry around a lot of guilt that I’m a homebody.

But like word vomit, I can’t stop myself from saying that I’ll meet up with someone to go do something not at home every time someone asks me what my plans are for the weekend. In reality, I’m going to catch up on YouTube videos, read the next chapter or so in a paperback or two or three, stare at a blank page and will unsuccessfully for words to appear, catch up on emails, and wonder what is life. I’d much rather do this than go to some place loud, crowded, smoky and makes me susceptible to stomachaches.