The other week I wrote about the internal debate I have every morning about getting out of bed on time. The debate wages between the two sides of me in the morning: the side that wants to be productive and go to the gym, and the side that wants to sleep for another hour. While the productive side usually wins (self high-five), the debate still occurs every single morning.
Over the weekend I realized there is another internal debate that wages in my mind between two opposing sides: the side that wants to go out and be 21 (well, more like 25 – I have money and (slightly more) pride now), and the side that wants to stay in and be 90. As I make my way towards turning the big 3-0, I struggle between wanting to suck every last glorious moment out of my twenties and wanting to slip slowly into ‘old lady status’.
This is the debate between the two sides that occurred this past Friday night.
It’s Friday night. You should go out.
No way. Boyfriend is out which means three words; Drag Race marathon.
You didn’t do anything this week besides go to work and go to the gym. You should text someone and go out for drinks.
But I’m already home. And I’ve taken my pants off. There’s no way I’m leaving this couch.
You sound like a old man. Come on, it will be fun! You can wear those pleather leggings you’ve worn once. We spent $50 on those, we should get some use out of them.
But I’m tiiiiiiiired.
You’re always tired! Make a cup of coffee. Let’s grab a few drinks.
We can’t do that anymore. You remember the hangover after the work party a few ago? Do you want that to happen again??
You are 27 years old. You can survive a mild hangover.
A, that was not a ‘mild hangover’, that was a ‘this is it, this is how i die’ hangover. And B, I have spin at 9:30 tomorrow and I want to get to the gym early to stretch.
Listen to you. Remember when you didn’t even used to leave to go out until 11pm?
Yeah, I do. Remember when I couldn’t get up in a pile of a snow because I had too many vodka and grape soda’s? Not a proud moment.
There’s no snow on the ground, it will be fine.
No. I’m staying here. I have my drag queens, my coloring book, and my tasty leftovers. I am not moving.
Fine. Be old and lame. When you’re a mom you’re going to look back on these days and think ‘I should have gone out when I had the chance!’
Perhaps. Until then, I’m quite content with my old lady status*.
Ughhhhhh. Fine. You win this time. But we’re watching Season 5.
*I redeemed myself that Sunday with a SundayFunday and getting home at midnight on a worknight. I regretted everything on Monday.