Notes from a Former Night Owl

So I decided to try really hard to avoid writing a blog today about the kittens that have seemingly taken over our lives. But it’s tough. Since they have seemingly taken over our lives.

I could talk about the big Ohio State win last night at the Sugar Bowl. It was one of those nail-biter kinda games where my team had a decent lead and I relaxed in the leather recliner with the kitt…er…something-or-others sleeping soundly in my lap.

Halftime started and I fell asleep myself in said recliner. Along with the something-or-others. When I woke up, the score was considerably and uncomfortably closer than it had been at halftime. And there were a few minutes at the very end of the game that I would’ve been yelling out loud at the television – if Vince hadn’t been upstairs getting some much-needed rest since he’s back to his ungodly 4:15AM wake-up schedule.

Fortunately, the Buckeyes pulled through and won the game. And I’m sure there was a huge collective “WHEW!” all over Buckeye-land.

We’d been invited to a gathering to watch the game with some friends, but declined as, again, 4:15Am rolls around incredibly early. We figured we wouldn’t even be able to stay until halftime so, sadly, we opted to stay home.

There was a time in the not-too-distant past that I wouldn’t have let that stop me. I was a night owl and proud of it. Didn’t matter if I had to be up early the next day – I was out and about. Of course, I don’t think I ever had to be out and about in the 4 o’clock hour. That might’ve put a little damper on my night owl activities.

It’s interesting how age creeps up on one rather insidiously. I was the person who could pull an all-nighter and then work a full day and go out on a date the next evening without even looking tired. If I tried to do that now, I suspect the bags under my eyes would need their own ZIP code.

Little by little, my late night activities have slowly turned into early evening activities. Like, for instance, I used to bowl on a winter league on Mondays. We usually started around 9:30PM, which meant that I didn’t get home until nearly midnight. And that was if after my last strike (Ha! Wishful thinking…!) I immediately stowed my bowling ball and shoes in the carrier and hustled out to my car and headed straight home.

A couple years ago I decided that getting home so late on Monday evenings wasn’t good for me because I was tired on Tuesdays and never felt that I caught up on my sleep the rest of the week.

So I switched bowling leagues and now bowl on Sundays where I’m finished by 9PM. Ahh. That’s more like it!

When I was in my 20s and hung out with coworkers and friends who were in their 30s (and older), we used to have a lot of happy hours and get-togethers outside of work. I always wanted to go home and get dressed up for an evening out instead of heading out right after work. But I discovered that our get-togethers weren’t as well-attended if co-workers had a gap between work and party time. I didn’t get it when they’d tell me that if they stopped at home first, they were done for the night.

Yeah, well, I totally get it now. It’s a really bad thing for me to stop at home after work before heading out to meet friends because I do not want to get back in the car to go out again. Picture me with my fingers desperately clinging to the door jam and Vince pulling me away from the door and out to the car saying, “But you told them we’d be there, Janie.”

Yeah, yeah. The voice of reason speaks again.

So apparently aging happens to the best of us, huh?

Usually I don’t want to admit any of this – because all of my former coworkers and friends used to tell me, “Just wait. It’ll happen to you, too.” And I’d scoff at them. “Not me,” I’d say confidently. “I can’t imagine slowing down…” I managed to keep the like you old fogies part of the sentence to myself.

Any of my old coworkers and friends reading this? Okay, I’m gonna say this once: You. Were. Right.

There. I said it. Now leave me alone. It’s nap time.

(And I apologize for calling you “old fogies.”)