Although the weekend didn't disappoint, it was definitely a reminder that we aren't the 9-year-old girls we used to be. Nope, we're the 35-year-old grannies who had to take naps after a shopping excursion and send the baby-sitter home after we finished "painting the town red" at a pathetic 9:00 PM.
Yeah that's right. My big night out ended at 9:00. I'd like to defend myself by saying that 9:00 isn't so bad considering that the baby-sitter arrived at 5. But that ages me even more. We may have been eating at a cool restaurant, but we were dining with the early birds.
I didn't used to be this old. I used to be able to stay up all night long, whether I was cramming for finals or closing down a fraternity party. Now I consider it a late night if I stay up past my 10 PM bedtime. And if I do stay up late or have one too many glasses of wine, I pay the price the next day as my mother's words reverberate in my aching head: You play, you pay.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete hermit. I enjoy going out to nice restaurants and bar hopping with friends. But after a couple of hours I'm more than ready to get back home, crawl into my jammies, and watch a good movie from the comfort of my own sofa, which is exactly what we did last weekend.
I don't know when I transitioned from party animal to party pooper. I don't know when I started ending my nights at the same time they used to kick off. I don't know when loud music in a club became irritating rather than invigorating. I don't know when I started looking at girls in their 20's and thinking, wow, I wish I had their energy. I don't know when I started giving myself a bedtime.
I don't know when I became OLD.
Are you a party animal or a party pooper? Have your thoughts on nights out changed over the years?