I'm having one of those days again where I just feel like an old fuddy duddy. I've been deep cleaning my carpets in between re-marathoning Transparent, and suddenly it got dark and thought, "I should finish this soon before I go to bed." And then I looked at the clock; it was 7:06pm.
You guys, my nights used to not begin until 10:30pm! I went out to brunch with a couple of friends and we were reminiscing about those weird nights we used to have where you'd never know where you'd end up at 5:00am. But we also agreed that if we went to those parties now we'd be too grossed out to even walk through the doors of some of these places.
My friends talked about their date to the orchestra last night and then bragged about the puzzle they finished and talked about framing it. It was so adorable! These are guys I have fond memories of running into super drunk at gay bars, and part of the group (which has since splintered off with good reason) that did coke in the photo booth.
I love settling in and being boring, but I think I've gone too far the other way. Worrying about bedtime at 7:00pm? I need a life.