The Monday Morning After

Happy Monday, Bloggers!

I must admit, though, that I wasn't entirely happy to see Monday roll around this AM. This past weekend "My Band" (aka Jackshit, aka Foundation) were in town, playing Gavan's on Friday and Saturday nights, and it is on Band weekends that I realize that I'm getting old. I used to be able to go out two nights in a row, party til 3 AM both nights, and have no trouble getting up on Monday morning.

Alas, I'm no longer that 18-year-old who was ready to rip, anytime, anywhere. I still do it when the boys are in Q-Town, but I always end up semi-regretting it when it's time to get up for work. There's always that temptation to call in sick just so I can log a few more hours of Z's. What's even more pathetic about it this time around is that I didn't exactly get plastered on either night. I had a few drinks, lots of dancing, lots of sitting around laughing and talking, but at no point was I "drunk". I even drove home both nights without a problem. On top of that, I had several long naps on both Saturday and Sunday.

And yet, I still felt like crap this morning!

So is it worth it? Maybe it's time to stop hanging out with the band every weekend that they're in town. Maybe it's time to grow up and start going home early to bed, just have one drink, maybe only stay for one set. Maybe I should be staying home doing crafts in the evenings, or just watching a good movie. Perhaps I should be trying to think of other ways to spend my weekends than at a dingy, stinky ol' bar.

Oh, who am I kidding. Next time they're in town, I'll be there with bells on!