When you go to a big university, partying is inevitable. People go out Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night... actually, who am I kidding, people are always downtown, unless it’s a Sunday. I like to partake in outings downtown just as much as everyone else. However, I’ve noticed a pattern lately, and it’s forced me to come to a shocking realization. At first, I thought I could attribute these behaviors to the fact that I’m an introverted-extrovert. In other words, I like to be social, but I also crave alone time. Well, after weeks and months of being the least drunk person around me, being ready to head home by 1 A.M., and always taking care of my friends at the end of the night, I’ve come to a conclusion: I’m the “grandma” of the friend group.

For us grandmas, here’s how a typical night out will go. You’ll show up at the pregame stoked for the night ahead. You’re hanging out with your friends, getting tipsy, and things are looking up. Once you head downtown, you end up hopping to seven different bars within the first hour because each one is too crowded for your liking. You don’t want to seem lame, so you tell your friends “I’m not feeling the vibe in here, let’s go somewhere better.” This happens a few times until, finally, you find a bar with good music and space to actually move your hands.

For the first hour or two, you try to keep up with your friends and drink as much as they are. Eventually, it gets to the point in the night where you’ve peaked, (probably by 12:30 A.M.), and you just start picturing your big comfy bed. Your friends want to keep getting drunker, but all you can think about is curling up with Netflix and a snack. But, you stay strong, and tell yourself that you’ll only be 19 years old once. As 2 A.M. approaches, when all the bars start closing down, you become the bitch in charge like always. You’re the only one coherent enough to direct the group to a safe spot, call an Uber, and make sure everyone gets home. Side note: if everyone else wants late night munchies, they'll buy a bunch of food they’re too drunk to finish, and you'll end up eating it. Then, after the Zaxby’s chicken fingers you didn’t need, you call the Uber.

Being the “grandma” of the friend group doesn’t mean you never have ratchet nights. I’ve had ratchet nights, you’ve had ratchet nights, we all have. However, it means that your general mentality is focused on your comfort over all else. When my body tells me that it’s time to go to bed, I listen. When my body tells me that it’s not in the mood to go out that night, I listen. When it tells me it doesn't need that last shot of tequila, I listen -- sometimes. It can be confusing for my friends to understand why I act the way I do, but from now on, I’m using the grandma excuse. If it means going out often, having hangovers rarely, and never waking up naked in a bush, I’m happy to take on this role in my friend group.

To all the other 20-something grandmas out there, you do you! Don’t let people pressure you into staying out longer than you want or partying harder than you want. If your pure joy comes from pizza and wine nights, go for it. If you want to go out and just leave an hour early, who cares? College is all about learning what makes you happy, so go forth, do that.