I’m getting old. I realize it’s an inevitability of life, but it really hit me tonight. I invited all my friends over, and how did I spend my day? In the kitchen baking zucchini bread and cooking not one, but two types of soup, one of which was in a crock pot. My friends also participated in this old fest by bringing soups of their own, most in crock pots or fancy rice warmers. We supped at 6 o’clock and followed our meal with a movie. And not just any movie, a mockumentary of a mockumentary about a movie that was never actually made. The movie didn’t actually get to start until my husband and I put the baby down, which was done by 7:30. All of my friends were gone and the kitchen cleaned by 9:20. And when did this rocking party take place? That’s right, on a Sunday night.
I’m not sure when exactly this happened. In the old days, which were not that long ago, the party would have started the second work ended on Friday. Granted, it might have started with dinner, but not until at least 8 or 9 o’clock, to avoid the early crowds. Then we would have started the movie, if we weren’t drinking or going out to hear a band. We would have woken up by one on Saturday, nibbled at our lunches, still a little hungover and lounged around reading or went shopping. Then we would have started the whole cycle again. Ending up at a bar if we watched a movie on Friday or at a movie if we hit the bar the night before. Sunday would have been spent recovering and hanging out until at least ten or eleven. Even if we had work the next morning, we all knew we’d be gliding in just in time for the day to start, so it didn’t much matter if we hit the snooze bar one more time.
I’m pretty darn happy with my life. I’m just not sure when I decided the kitchen had to be cleaned up right after the party instead of waiting until the next morning. Or when my meals started coming with water or if I was feeling crazy, Diet Coke that wasn’t mixed with anything. I’m really not sure when staying up until 11:30 on a Saturday night became a rarity. But here I am, not even in my mid-thirties, and it’s happened.