Sunday, February 9, 2014

A new kind of weekend

Is it pathetic that on Friday night I went to bed at 8:30?  I tried to read, but I kept falling asleep so I turned the light out around 9 and was asleep by 9:01. (Do you like how I tried to save face by saying that the reason I went to bed so early was to read?  Because going to bed at 8:30 on a Friday is perfectly acceptable if you go to bed with a good book.) 

I know, I know.  I do not have kids, so what is my excuse?  My excuse is I was freaking exhausted! I  found that I am much more productive between the hours of 5:30 and 8am and so I have been getting up super early.  The next thing will be me eating dinner at 4pm.  At Denny's.  Leave me alone.  Friday night was the first night that I got more than 8 hours of sleep in weeks.  It was awesome.  (Mothers of babies, don't read those last two sentences.)  Wait, if there are mothers of babies reading this, you probably already read it.  Sorry, I should have put the warning before those two sentences.

I remember a time when Friday and Saturday nights didn't even begin until 11pm.  That's when all the parties would just be getting started.  It seems crazy, but it was so much fun!  If we were home and in bed by 2:30am, that was standard.  Anything earlier meant that the night was a complete bust, and if we were up until the sun came up, well that was just an amazingly rocking night.  Of course, walking home with the sun up was never that much fun because everyone assumed you were doing the walk of shame because, come on, who else would be dressed in tight black pants, heels, and a sparkly shirt at 6:30 in the morning?  (Perhaps that description fits a few other groups as well, but that's a conversation for another day.)

But here is a life lesson that not everyone knows.  Just because you see college kids walking the streets in their clothes from the night before, does not mean that they just had a night of crazy, drunken, meaningless sex (although it certainly could, because that can happen too...although it NEVER happened to me because I was NOT that kind of girl).  If anyone is reading this who knew me in college, you can shut up right now because my morning walks were HARDLY EVER sex related and they were NEVER EVER meaningless sex related.  I'm just kidding about any walks being sex related because I never had sex in college because I was waiting for marriage.  Just kidding, because I am STILL a virgin.  The only thing my husband and I do is cuddle.  Just kidding again.  My husband and I NEVER cuddle.  Are you confused by what I am and am not kidding about?  Good.  Back to my point: walking home in the morning can simply mean that the party was so good that it didn't end until the sun came up.  The end.  Ignore everything about what may or may not have been true about my college sex life (or lack there of).  You see what I did there? They mystery continues.  

And now what do my 6:30am's look like?  Well, I am sitting on my couch with my cat and I am eating gluten free oatmeal sprinkled with flaxseed and almonds while I am writing a blog that I am pretty sure no one else reads but me. And I probably won't post this until this afternoon so you probably won't even believe me, but I promise you, this part is all true.  This is why I must go to bed at 9am, so that I can use my Saturday and Sunday mornings for this - peace and quiet - just me and my oatmeal, my cat and whatever I choose to work on in these early morning hours.

The reason I don't have time to post now is because I need to get myself to cycle and yoga. Because that's what I do on my weekends now.  Because I am over 30.  And because I love cycle and yoga.  And if I don't eat gluten free, flaxseed, almond oatmeal and if I don't go to cycle and do yoga, well who knows what will happen.  My mind and body will probably explode from all the fat and stress, that's what.  My gluten free oatmeal, cycle, and yoga keep me healthy.  And if I am really lucky, I will see some college kids doing the walk of shame on my way there.

P.S. Because I am finishing this post much later like I said I would, I can tell you that I did not see any walk of shamers.  (Much to my disappointment.)