Sorry for the absence, you dedicated blog followers, you. Admittedly, the summer is not the best time for blogging; we have limited outdoor time here, so I have to take advantage of it. I apologize for making your work day approximately 5 minutes longer because of my inability to post my crazy thoughts online…
The last week and a half has been filled with friends, family and parties. My BFF, Malbie and her husband, Matt, were in town over the 4th of July weekend. That equaled two parties (back to back) and maybe, just maybe, some alcohol. Yes, definitely alcohol. Bread challenged me by saying he’d never seen me drink two nights in a row. This, is because I am a binge drinker. Indeed. I’m very well past my college years but I still binge drink. So, more than likely, I’m too ill from the day before and just the smell of alcohol alone is enough to send me running to the bathroom. Hence, Bread has never seen me drink two nights in a row.
I took his words to heart and I really tried to pull a two-nighter. Alas, I failed. Come Night Two, I could not catch a buzz. I wasn’t feeling it. I gave up and ended up staying up way too late anyway, rendering myself completely useless the Sunday after. I couldn’t formulate any complete thoughts. I need sleep. I looked like shit.
This past weekend, a good friend, Claire, got married. What did I do to help her and her groom celebrate this momentous occasion? I hit up the bar! They paid for this! I wanted to ensure they got their money’s worth! Luckily, the wedding was close to our home so I was home and in bed by one in the morning.
After two consecutive weekends of drinking (almost unheard of for me) and partying, I came to a very important realization: I’m fucking old. I can’t hang. I can’t do shots. I cannot, under any circumstances, play drinking games. I need to get seven or eight hours of sleep per night. I can handle a few less hours if I haven’t been drinking. But, drinking and lack of sleep is not a good combo for me. I get too blown out and can’t even function the next day. I have to nap.
Why else am I fucking old, you ask? I can’t wear heels so much anymore. Given my current, ahem, career, I don’t really need to wear heels anymore. If I go out, I usually do. The next day my feet hurt. WTF? I exercise. I am healthy. Why is this a challenge? Elderly!
Also, when packing my “fancy” purse for Claire’s wedding, I found I had the strong desire to pack my ID. This is logical, you think because I’ll be drinking. Oh, no! I knew there was no way in hell that I was going to be carded. I wanted to be sure that if we were in an accident, the police could easily identify my body. I also was sure to wear clean underwear…
Today, while my mom watched Bird, we rode our bikes on a trail. I was so afraid, the whole time, that our bikes would bump tires, or one of us would lose it on the gravel, knock the other out and I would end up in the hospital with a broken hip. We traveled nearly 13 miles! Then, I thought it was a good idea to come home and lift some weights. I am fearful that I will not be able to get out of bed tomorrow. Who will care for Bird!
I’m old, people. I just can’t hang like I used to. I need a girdle. I want flat, orthopedic shoes. Excuse me, my Jitterbug is ringing and I have to go drink my prune juice.
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