It’s a Thursday night. You are sitting on the couch (the TV is on or you could be reading a book but most likely you are doom-scrolling). You know full well that you have plans to meet a dear friend who you’ve been “meaning to catch up with for ages!” at the pub down the road in exactly 45 minutes.

Maybe this friend has been going through a rough time? Maybe they’ve got some exciting news about a perfect Hinge date (rare and shocking)? Maybe you’ve simply been “ships in the night” sailing through the capitalist rat race and miss each other’s company.

Either way, this hangout is premeditated and has been organised in advance with many exclamations of excitement. However, there is but one tiny problem: you no longer want to go. You are just … comfortable where you are.

You vaguely start calculating the hours left in the day – you might want to go to the gym in the morning (despite not having gone in weeks) and work was slightly strenuous today (you had to actually do your job).

You pick up your phone to text them something along........

© The Guardian