Are you like me? Do you convince yourself that you are the kind of person who likes to go on a Big Night Out, only to swiftly realise that you would prefer to be ordering a takeaway while sporting your most loose fitting tracksuit bottoms?

Solidarity my friend. Here is a list of what happens.

Getting Ready.

This part of the night is the best bit. You’re in your room, listening to music you actually like and spending a large amount of time leisurely blending your eyeshadow.This is YOUR TIME. Maybe you’re also having a sneaky wine. You’re not actually outside yet so you’re blissfully unaware of how Baltic it is. This is as good as the night will get.

Pre-Drinks.

You are either in your friends house or a mutually agreed upon pub. This is the second best part of the night. Everyone’s just the right amount of relaxed, horsing into their pints and you can actually hear each other talk. The atmosphere is warm and cosy. You look around fondly at your friends thinking: 'I love these guys. We’re all great. Fair play to us.'

In the Queue.

Oh it is FREEZING. Your extremities are icy cold. There’s a chap behind you and your friends in the queue that keeps asking you all annoying questions.  He smells like Dutch Gold and sadness. Did I mention it’s freezing?

At The Bar.

You wait patiently as the bar staff seem to be unaware of your (thirsty) existence. You nearly resort to putting your hand up like an eager schoolchild but you think the better of it. Eventually this quest results in you buying a vodka and dash for approximately €1000 which you down immediately out of pure rage.

Dancing.

One in every seven songs is one you like. You look at the DJ in the booth and think ‘I could do that. Why didn’t she take my request for Goodies by Ciara? It’s a classic.’ The resentment you feel towards the DJ surprises all of your friends who tell you to relax and maybe see a therapist.

Weird Men.

If you are in a straight club, there will be that one silent weird man (probably wearing a polo shirt and brown shoes) who tries it on with each of your friends in quick succession. If you’re in a gay club, similar situations will sadly also arise. One of your group of friends will be nominated as the person who shoos unwanted advances away. You are the Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson of the group and you should take your role very seriously.

End of The Night.

Let’s be honest you were tired at about 1am but all your friends were soldiering on and you couldn’t afford to get a taxi by yourself. The lights turn on and everyone looks and acts like drunk toddlers wandering incapacitated towards the door.

The Taxi Home.

You are almost crying with relief when you sit in the taxi. You had a drunken 3 in 1 beforehand which was a mistake (as you will find out tomorrow). You remember that you bought new pairs of fluffy socks in Penneys yesterday and spend the journey fantasising about your impending cosiness.

Bed.

You’re lying down trying desperately to go to sleep. It feels like you are on a boat, and you forgot to bring up a glass of water. You dope.

Morning.

Lord have mercy on your soul. Get a Powerade into you and don’t go out for another three months until the mood strikes again.