Uhhhhh...

I am sooo spent today. On Friday, it was Staffina's last day, so we held a going-away party for her at MaryAnne's, a Mexican restaurant in Chelsea. Now, I sort of assumed that the party would start with ordering something to eat, so I held off on lunch until that point. Silly me. All the people I work with are in their mid- or early twenties. It was all about Margarita's. I did managed to have some Nachos, and I paced myself, nursing one drink for the three hours we were there. But, I agreed to their imprecations to join them after the party for beers at a straight bar in Chelsea. (There's at least one.) I finally had something to eat, and again I paced myself, having maybe three beers the entire night. But, the night ran on until past midnight, and I had to go back to the office to pick up my stuff before I hit the PATH train.

I had planned to spend a quiet evening on Friday. Hit the gym, head home, make myself dinner, relax. Recharge the batteries in anticipation of the weekend. But no. I went out drinking with twentysomethings. It was fun. They're a good group of people. And having spent my twenties being the life of the party in situations like this, it was familiar and enjoyable.

But I think it has to be a 'rule' from now on that Friday nights are quiet and I get to bed around midnight. Because Friday night totally threw me off this whole weekend. I woke up late on Saturday and wasn't good for much, accomplishing just about nothing that I had to before I had to leave the house to meet Special Guy at the Guggenheim. And I ended up staying in on Saturday night because I was feeling a little tired, and Sunday morning was a repeat of Saturday morning.

No. No no no no no no NO! Weekends are precious, and so much depends upon Friday night.

---