Some people show up at your home and seem to forget theyre guests. They act rude, give instructions like they own the place, and never look in a hurry to leave.
I used to be extremely welcoming, but my feelings changed quickly. Once I crossed forty, I stopped inviting people over altogether. After all, why bother? Hosts like that just wear you out.
My last birthday was spent at a local brasserie. I enjoyed every minute of itand thats how I plan to celebrate from now on. Let me tell you why.
Hosting a party at home costs a pretty penny. Even a casual dinner gathering can make a noticeable dent in your wallet. If youre planning a Christmas get-together, the expense climbs even higher. Guests tend to arrive with token gifts; times are tough, after all. Then they linger until ungodly hours. All you want, though, is a bit of peacenot to be elbow-deep in washing up and tidying into the early morning.
Im no longer waiting for anyone to show up within the walls of my flat. I clean up and cook when it suits me. I remember feeling drained and low after home-hosted Christmasesnow, I can sneak off for a bath and be in bed early after festivities.
I have piles of free time now, wisely spent. My friends can pop in for a cup of tea and Im never concerned about whats in the fridge. These days, I speak my mind openly. If I feel like unwinding, Ill gesture towards the door. Maybe it isnt ideal manners, but I wont lose sleep over it. My comfort comes first.
What surprises me most is that those who love to descend upon others homes rarely invite anyone to theirs. Its far easier for them to have fun in someone elses living room, avoiding the mess and the hassle.
Do you welcome guests? Can you truly call yourself a hospitable person?
