Sometimes I think I'm getting old.
Then I do something that makes me feel like I'm still young.
We went to go see Pat Benatar and Neil Geraldo the other night. I was in my 80's heyday glory. The girl can still rock and rock HARD. They put on a great show - somewhat similar to the set I saw her do last year when she came around on tour with Rick Springfield, but it was still amazing. And we were in the 11th row of a fairly small theater so it was almost as if I could reach out and touch her.
But I didn't.
I even missed out on snagging one of Neil's guitar pick's because I didn't believe it would actually make it back that far and surprisingly, it did. By the time I realized it, the guy in front of me grabbed it. Oh, well. I sang, I screamed and as I looked around, I almost felt like one of the youngest people in the room.
We made it a date night - something we don't do nearly enough - and went to dinner first and then the show. We got home late but I was still feeling fairly energized and actually wrote for an hour before going to bed.
I even got up the next day and was still feeling pretty young and peppy.
Then came the 4th.
I don't know what it is. I can't explain it. Holidays...any holiday...just exhaust me and make me want to stay in my jammies, curled up on the sofa and just do nothing. I don't know when it started happening but basically I am NOT the person you want to invite over because everything exhausts me like I'm a 90 year old woman.
We were invited to spend the day with some friends - barbecue, swimming, and just having fun. Did I swim? No. Did I even bring my bathing suit? No. Do I suck? Yes. I wore a maxi dress because I was basically too lazy to wear normal clothes. My hair was somewhat styled. I did manage to make some kick ass salads - potato salad and a tortellini salad - but other than that, I was content to let our friends grill.
Someone even made my S'more for me.
Okay, but in my defense...the 4th is just not my thing. I enjoy SEEING the fireworks, I don't enjoy HEARING them. The people that live next door to our friends were setting off what could only be described as bombs at 3 in the afternoon. Why? I honestly don't get what the thrill is in that. I was pretty psyched to get home early and watch the Macys fireworks on TV, but I missed them.
And don't even get me started to how much energy I did NOT have on Sunday.
I guess my inner-party girl can only come out once a week and I used that up at the concert.