While the title may lead you to think that this post will be waxing poetic about aging gracefully, but it is not.
Last night/this morning, I discovered yet another beauty of getting older:
getting to have wonderful hangovers without the pesky trouble of drinking and/or partying the night before.
As it is even now, at almost 7pm on Sunday night, I'm not sure I'm going to make it to watch Once Upon a Time before falling asleep on the couch.
The story: KC, my BFF and teaching partner-in-crime, went to visit her college peeps out of town for the weekend. The problem? Her husband works Saturday nights as a valet to make a little extra dough. So, I agreed to take the chilrens to a movie (Boxtrolls!) and then bring them home and put them to bed.
We watched the Boxtrolls, which was just quirky enough for me to love, and then came home. After a smidge of a squalling fit (the girl's got stamina...), the littles watched approximately five minutes of Frozen before falling asleep. Put them to bed, and then pass out on their couch.
Which is what I did. I slept on their couch from 11-2:45. Then, I woke up, went home, and slept in my own bed from 3:30-7:30. So, all in all, I got almost eight hours of sleep.
And woke up feeling like I'd partied like a rockstar and had about a case or twelve of something alcoholic.
Ah, aging... it is a many splendored thing. I'm just going to go pound the tums I've required to be near me since I turned 35.
Can't wait to see what 40 holds...