Saturday, December 8, 2007

26 or 62

You decide.

I think that as of late, I'm acting more and more like a geriatric individual, rather than a feisty, energized 26 year old.

For example, nowadays, when I'm invited out, whether its for drinks or a party after 9 pm, I can barely drag myself off the couch and make it out. I think, wow, that's incredibly late. I'm not sure that I can make it out. The old Ashley never went out before 10 pm.

New geriatric Ashley prefers happy hours which begin at 5:30 and end by 8:00 pm. It's not like I really even go to bed at 8:00, but I'd much rather be home, in my pjs and relaxing.

Geriatric Ashley also pulls on PJ bottoms within moments of entering the apartment. Whether it's 3 pm, or 7 pm it doesn't matter. My pants are already half unzipped as I'm sticking the key into my apartment door. Nice.

Last night, I went to happy hour at around 6. By the time my boyfriend came over at 8, my eyelids were heavy. We sat down in our pjs, ate popcorn, drank some wine and watched a movie. About half an hour in, he looks over to me and says, "can we just go to bed?"

I said, "what about the movie, honey?" He didn't care. We have yet to make it through an entire movie together. God, what's happening to me?

Do things get better, or worse from here?

I'm off to do a little christmas shopping, and then tonight we have an ugly sweater party. Here's hoping I can stay up past 10 pm.