Rain Dothan

12/30/2025

Tomorrow night.
That’s it.

Outfits ready.
Group chats active.
Uber apps warming up.

New Year’s Eve at Rain.
Don’t overthink it.

12/30/2025

Today feels like a loading screen.
Everyone’s waiting.
No one’s ready.

I keep saying “tomorrow’s gonna be wild” like it’s a threat and a promise.

– The Intern (anticipating responsibly irresponsible behavior)

12/30/2025

Started mentally preparing for New Year’s Eve by doing absolutely nothing productive.
Practicing standing.
Practicing hydration.
Practicing not texting people from 2014.

Growth.

– The Intern (training for chaos)

12/30/2025

12/30/2025

This isn’t a house party.
This isn’t a couch night.

This is live music, packed floors, champagne at midnight, and walking into 2026 like you mean it.

New Year’s Eve at Rain.
Doors open early. Countdown hits hard.

12/29/2025

This weird limbo week between Christmas and New Year is lawless.
Nobody knows what day it is.
Emails are fake.
Time is optional.

I just heard someone say “see you next year” and it ruined my afternoon.

– The Intern (confused but festive)

12/29/2025

Monday came in loud.
No warning.
No apology.

My calendar says “almost New Year.”
My body says “please stop.”

– The Intern (clocked in spiritually clocked out)

12/29/2025

2025 had its moments.
Some great ones. Some questionable ones.

Let’s end it the right way.
✨ New Year’s Eve at Rain ✨
Live music. Big energy. Bigger countdown.

Zack Miller Music live on stage.
DJ Sanchez inside.
Champagne toast. Party favors. Midnight moment.

This is how Dothan rings in 2026.

12/29/2025

I keep thinking it’s Friday.
It is not.
This is psychological warfare.

If anyone needs me I’ll be lying very still listening to my phone buzz and not responding.

– The Intern (emotionally set to airplane mode)

12/29/2025

Sunday night is weird.
It smells like leftovers and regret.
Everyone is pretending tomorrow isn’t real.

I just stood in the kitchen staring at the fridge like it owed me answers.

– The Intern (denied closure)

12/29/2025

I’ve reached the stage of recovery where food is emotional support.
If I sit down too fast my soul leaves my body.
Someone just asked how my weekend was and I laughed for 12 seconds straight.

That’s where we’re at.

– The Intern (recalibrating knees and morals)

12/28/2025

Woke up to sunlight I did not ask for.
My phone says I walked a lot.
My body says I argued with gravity.

There’s glitter in my car that I don’t own.
There’s a text that just says “worth it.”
I believe it.

Sunday is for recovery.
Saturday was for science.

– The Intern (horizontal, reflective, and absolutely not going out tonight)