It was Friday night, and instead of my usual cup of tea, ugg boots and kindle I was invited out to a work function to catch up with the people I work with every day but never actually get the chance to sit down and catch up with! It was a great night. Fantastic company, gorgeous food and a tipple or two of a beautiful white. Got home a little later than my normal 9pm bedtime and went to bed content.
Skip forward to 6pm Saturday night and I was preening. Getting ready for that fun, and sometimes scary ritual…..a close friend’s hens night. I hadn’t been to a hens night in ages! The excitement was building, the eye makeup perfect and the Curl Secret was warming up, ready to transform my limp, dry locks into a Miranda Kerr worthy do!
The night was a perfect balance of plastic penis straws and class (can the two go together?!). Just enough tacky penis paraphernalia to remind us why we were there, yet again, fantastic company, gorgeous food and a tipple or two…...ok, 7 or 8 of a beautiful white!
We danced the night away to our own personal dj’s remix of Salt ‘n’ Pepa and Madonna (and I’m talking old school Madonna….pre Britney pash). We moved onto to the local Irish pub to find live music, a full dance floor and a mean cosmopolitan.
Finally, after one or two cosmos too many, I traipsed home, kicked my nude peep toes off at the door (ahhhhh the relief), and collapsed into bed. What a night!
Yes, what a night! But at around 4am, head spinning and unable to get back to sleep, the thoughts changed very rapidly from “I am the dancing queen!” to “I’m too old for this shit!” The hangover that now takes two days to recover from. The sore muscles from dancing in heels for hours on end. The blurred wine fuelled memory of running into 18 year old kids that you taught when they were 12…...IN THE BAR!
Remember the days, where you would stumble home from the uni bar in the early hours of the morning and sleep off the night before for the entire next day, only to rise and shine (at 4pm) and do it all again! Uni bar night was a Thursday, (Heaven help you if you had a Friday lecture, or even worse compulsory tutorial), but this allowed you to have three consecutive (if not four or five...I was living on campus….) big nights a week…..Sleep it off all day Sunday, and you were set!
Oh how times have changed!
My day long sleep after a big night (or god forbid, TWO nights out in a row!) has been replaced with a five year old softly poking me in the arm at 6am, whispering “Mum…...Mum…...Want to play Bop It?” (For future reference, Bop It is the most annoying children’s toy ever and if your angels tell you that they just have to have one, immediately direct them over to the playing cards, stuffed toys or colouring books that DO NOT make second rate MC Hammer style hip hop music.)
My bounce back body, has been replaced with that which, after a big night out, resembles a ninety year old woman hobbling around a nursing home because my muscles, ankles, head...you name it, takes at least 24 hours to recover.
My head….oh my head….throbs with an intensity that, with every pulse screams “THE NEXT PERSON TO SAY 'MUMMY' WILL BE BANISHED FROM THIS HOUSE FOREVER!”
I have hit that time in my life. That time where the 18 year old party girl seems so far gone into the distant past, that I look in the mirror, groan and realise I really am too old for all this shit!
And so it’s Friday again….....Put the kettle on love!