I’ve reached that age.
My heart wants to party all night on New Year’s Eve with my closest friends…
… My head knows I shouldn’t drink that champagne margarita, yet I do it anyway…
… And as it turns out, my body just can’t keep up.
The hubs and I rang in 2015 at a “New Year, New House” party hosted by our besties. Sequins were everywhere, board games were dominated and the champagne was certainly flowing. I know those things for a fact, because I evidently become the selfie queen after a few drinks.
It was recommended that I get a selfie stick for such occasions. Katrin, you may be on to something.
At some point after live-streaming Walt Disney World Magic Kingdom fireworks, and mid-way through a game of Catch Phrase, I got up and went to bed (sequins and all) without telling anyone. Apparently I’ve lost all ability to party the night away.
It’s probably a good thing, though. If one more glass of bubbly would have been passed my way, I would still be recovering. Blech.
Next year, I’m going to bed when Dorothy does. Momma just can’t hang.
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