There was a time when 10:30 on a Tuesday night meant just one thing: Beer night was just getting started.
These days, we still go, though not as religiously, but when we go, we start earlier and we put away fewer beers. Sometimes, we don't go, and that's ok, too, because then I can type blog entries and watch TV in my PJs and be in my bed before the second episode of Sex and the City gets underway.
On weekends, I'm finding that I do less. I do more laundry and less running around. I spend less money. I eat more fruit. I drink fewer rum and cokes. I go out to the movies less.
And in some ways, this is beneficial. I don't wake up on Wednesdays feeling like someone drove over my head, and my arms don't ache all over in every joint, and I don't feel like I sucked on a sock all night. In addition, My body seems to like to go to bed at the same, reasonable hour every night rather than staying up until 2 or 3 or even 6. My spending is down because I am cooking more because we have grown-up, old-people problems like my high blood pressure and his diabetes, etc.
But you know what? I miss my social life. I feel like it is DOA, MIA, and whatever else you want to call it. I miss sitting around and drinking beers and having fun, meaningless conversations about things I can't remember clearly in the morning. I miss running from one social activity to the next on a Saturday, sometimes seeing three or four people or groups of people in one day and never needing to sleep. I miss Sunday brunch after church. I miss games. And it's nobody's fault; it's not like we're avoiding each other. We're all just feeling older right now.
I never thought I would get old. And everybody I work with is like, "Oh, you're a baby." False! I am not a baby. I get tired at 10, and I want to be in my bed by 10:30. If I'm up until midnight, I suffer the next day. S-U-F-F-E-R. And I have never needed sleep. Now, I like to nap when I get home from work. I like to go to bed early. This from the girl whose mom used to tell her that she couldn't get up until the clock had chimed six times. If that doesn't make me old, I don't know what does.
I gotta say, I thought getting older would be more exciting. I thought I was done with my quarter-life crisis, but it turns out that I'm just having a really early and long mid-life crisis. I thought by now I'd know what I wanted, and I would go get it, and I would have the resources to attain it.
Turns out, what I want right now is more sleep (and a pudding pop). And since I do have the resources to attain ithat, I'm going to go get it.
Posted by LoWriter at April 15, 2008 11:04 PMi hear ya hon... my party nights are few and far in between these days. i think part of it was the winter months and living in the suburbs... getting back into the city gives me the motivation to go out and DO things, but not necessarily with other folks.
as i get older, i do a lot more by myself, and i prefer it that way. long bike rides, reading on the couch or at the library, cooking, shopping, yoga... for me, getting older is kinda fun. i like myself, and i like that i have the means to actually do these things that i want to do (ie a livable salary).
the other part of this is that i do get lonely and i miss sharing my life with someone so closely. but that loneliness fuels my desire to see and do more. to meet more interesting people and put a few notches of accomplishment on my belt.
i dunno... it's a give and take... you get older, you get less time, but the time you do get is of a higher quality.
when you guys come to visit me (tomorrow, next year, 5 years from now) you WILL be required to have long silly chats late into the night - so put that in your bag o'tricks and reserve it for later! ;o)
Posted by: dr gonzo at April 16, 2008 10:26 AM