PSA: Memories Consist Of What You Actually Remember

Twenty20 / acsmercado
Twenty20 / acsmercado

It’s a Friday! Cue the beer mug emojis and frantic group texts about tonight’s plans. Today’s the day you’ve been waiting for, right? Two for one margs at the Mexican place, Karaoke night at the bar, or that house party at so-and-so’s. You’re beyond ready to drink. Since noon you’ve been day dreaming about those jello shots marinating in the back of your fridge and whether or not you’ll add whipped cream on top. Yep, it’s time.

We’ve all been there. Counting down the hours until we’re free from school and work and human obligations. Mentally going through our closets for the cutest turn-up outfit. Planning out when, exactly, we will shower, eat dinner, go to the liquor store, and pregame before the shenanigans.

We’re pumped to throw back shots, chase our mixed drinks with more mixed drinks, and dance our butts off, right?

Here’s the thing about partying, though: it’s only fun if you actually remember.

Okay. Okay. Major buzzkill. But seriously…if you wake up still in your clothes from last night, makeup smeared everywhere, and an earth-shattering headache with no recollection of anything from the night before…did you really have fun?

Your body is a combo of bruised, bleeding, and semi-dying as you scroll through yesterday’s Snapstories trying to piece together your night. You call your BFF to ask if she has your keys. She doesn’t. Then you come across the drunk texts. Did you seriously say that?? Dear God.

But last night was fun…right? Right?! At 2AM you were ten beers in, stumbling around, and having a freaking awesome time…supposedly. But were you really? Everyone else was, as they recorded your top-of-your-lungs-and-off-key singing.

But you were blacked out. Those aren’t even your memories. You can’t tell those stories, or even claim them.

Sure, that was you making snow angels in your skivvies…but you don’t actually remember doing that, or anything else, bad or good. Yeah, that gorgeous guy you supposedly made out with? No recollection. Damn. Better luck next time.

So what’s the point? (That’s the real question.) We’re all dying for the weekend, ready to toss some back and get a little rowdy. But is it really that awesome of a Friday if we don’t even remember it? I say no. Freaking No with a capital ‘N.’

Sure, it’s great to get drunk. Don’t get me wrong. But waking up on a random couch with puke in your hair and no idea how you got home? Doing something absolutely hilarious and not even having street cred because you can’t remember? Getting in a fight with your BFF over who knows what and not knowing how to fix it? Kissing the love of your life and not even remembering it?!!!??

That’s not fun.

Your partying years are some great years, right? Your pre-college to just-out-of-college-years. These are the days you’re supposed to have shenanigans and memories with the people you love. You’re supposed to have those unforgettable nights. (Keyword: UNforgettable). So, uh, PSA: You can’t have any of those awesome, forever-with-you memories if you black out.

Memories consist of what you actually remember. (Duh.)

So by all means, get drunk, get crazy, live it up. It’s a Friday, after all. But if you want to cherish the time spent with people you care about and actually have a good time you can laugh about the next morning, maybe don’t take that tenth shot of tequila at 3AM. Or shotgun that twelfth beer. Or do a case race with the dude who drinks like a fish. Just sayin’. 😉 Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

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