It’s an interesting thing getting older. What you once could
have sworn described you to a T is no longer necessarily true.
Like, for instance, I used to be the reigning queen of the Night
Owls at one time in my life. In my 20s, friends used to marvel at how I could
pull all-nighters to study or finish college papers, work all day and then attend
classes that same evening without missing a beat.
They used to tell me, of course, that it would all catch up to
me one day.
Clearly, “one day” is here. And, okay, so for me, “one day”
occurred sometime around the turn of the century. But now every time I try to
do the night owl thing, it only serves to remind me that I have officially
become an Old Fogey.
These days if I don’t get at least 7.25 hours of sleep per
night, I am a basket case the next morning as the bags and dark circles under
my eyes will attest.
When Vince and I went on our first cruise together, we selected
the later 8 o’clock seating for dinner. This allowed us plenty of time for the
daily activities on the ship or at port as well as time to unwind on the
balcony with a glass of wine before dressing for dinner that evening. We’d
attend a show or performance after dinner and felt thoroughly entertained. Then
we’d get up early the next morning and do it all again.
It worked perfectly.
Then on our next cruise (a couple years ago) we went with
friends who are the early-to-bed/early-to-rise-type of folk. They wanted the
earlier dining slot, so we acquiesced to accommodate them. It worked out well,
except we lost out on the relaxing happy hour on the balcony.
Don’t get me wrong, we still enjoyed a glass of wine on the
balcony…but it was a little more rushed than we had experienced on our earlier
cruise.
So on our latest cruise, we once again selected the later dining
time.
We were mostly able to enjoy our wine time on the balcony, but
more times than not, we ended up drinking wine in the cabin while I got ready
for dinner. I’d apply some makeup, take a swig of Pinot Noir, pat, swirl and
blend (the makeup – not the Pinot) and then take another swig. It was not quite
as restful and relaxing as sitting out on the balcony watching the sun set and
the waves roll by.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Getting through dinner was
fine, but finding the energy to do anything after
dinner was the problem.
Apparently, once you hit 50, time moves at warp speed. And what
I could do at 50, I can’t do a few scant years later.
By the time our meal was finished somewhere between 9:30 and
10PM, I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was head back to our cabin and go
to sleep.
Sad, isn’t it? My partying days are over.
There were one or two nights during the cruise when I managed to
keep my eyes open long enough to watch a show or attend an event. And that was
enjoyable. But for the most part I was okay with going back to the cabin for a
little shut-eye.
I think Vince would have liked to have seen a few more shows,
but the only reason he didn’t protest was because he had caught a cold and was
sneezing and coughing and generally feeling miserable. He was happy enough to
pop a Nyquil and drift off for a short snooze before his next coughing jag woke
him up.
Needless to say, we had no drinking and dancing ‘til dawn
debauchery on this cruise. (Or the last cruise, for that matter…or the cruise
before… or… Oh heck. Let’s just say it has been a LONG time since there was any
debauchery going on!)
Ah well. I’m okay with
this new regime. I have to be. If I stayed up ‘til dawn these days I’d need a
vat of Visine to get the red out and I’d be applying concealer with a trowel.
And I simply don’t have the energy for that sort of nonsense these days.
So lesson learned. Looks like we’ll be selecting the “Old Fogey”
dinnertime on our next cruise. We’ll be sound asleep before there’s even a
whiff of debauchery going on. We’ll leave that to the reigning Queen of the
Night Owls.
Aw man. Just writing about this is wearing me out. Might be time
for a nap.
Yeah. I’m an Old Fogey. And the title no longer even bothers me.
That, my friends, makes it official.
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