Monday, 19 August 2013

Week 102- feeling old, air punching and the Edinburgh fringe

I've been away for four days and three nights sans child. I went to the Edinburgh festival with some friends. 

I has visions of getting leathered. Staying out until the time I normally get up.  Me and my friends made plans during the drive up to go dancing.

Not cool dancing.

Proper dancing to bad 80's music where every song can't be sung, but screamed at the top of your voice, accompanied by an obligatory air punch.

And booze. Lots of booze between every show.

But turns out somewhere between getting pregnant with Nancy and now, I've got old.

Not sensible old. The kind of old that whispers in your ear that you should go home now or you won't make the first show you have tickets for at 10am.

I mean old old.

That at 10.30pm I'm involuntarily yawning and my eyes are prickling, willing my to go to sleep right there in the pub.

That kind of old.

This is disappointing, to say the least.

I thought the reason I haven't been going out loads was because I don't have the opportunity to so that much.

Not that I'm virtually physically incapable of holding a conversation with anyone past midnight.

It's one thing to not cane it as you know that a little person might wake up, shouting your name, the moment you rest your spinny head on your pillow.

It's a completely different thing to have to be given the second spare set of keys for where you're staying with your friends as the sheer panic sets in when someone asks about getting another round in after ELEVEN FORTY-FIVE.

I feel like I've let myself down.

More than that. 

I feel like I've been totally tricking myself for the last two years.

That if my family lived closer and babysat at the weekend from time to time, I'd be dancing the balls of my feet red raw in inappropriate footwear.

The truth is, I'd prefer to finish reading Gone Girl, go to sleep by 9 and stay asleep for the next 12 hours.

Bit of a personal blow that I've turned into an overnight borezo.

I've just got to man up and get some more stamina before my friends realise I've turned into an 80 year old woman in a 34 year old's body.

Or they'll stop inviting me to go out altogether.

No comments:

Post a Comment