In high school and college it was SO LAME to stay at home on a weekend night. Super wicked mega lame.Your entire existence could be redefined each Monday after your peers assessed your weekend.
I hated this, but in classic impressionable adolescent behavior, I caved, and spent years of weekends at parties, bars, movies and friends houses. It made me way cooler of a person – let me tell you.
But then you hit the fun mid-to-late twenties where you are finally comfortable in your own skin. Doing what you want to do, not what might make you more popular. Because there isn’t really a popular anymore. You get to hang out with who you want to – not just who has the most expensive purses (yeah that mattered at my high school) – and do whatever you want.
Just growing up is the best hall pass in the world.
Last night we had friends over. We made pot roast. And ate bruschetta. And drank. And played trivia. This morning I woke up and went hiking then walked the dogs. And now I’ll spend the day doing homework.
And I’m elated.