For all of you who haven’t made it to your thirties yet, this is going to be you on a Saturday night. I went out last night, had 6 or 7 drinks, and have now been hungover all day. Between laying on the couch, making some bacon for BLT’s, and then taking a nap, today hasn’t been real productive. As I stand here in my pajama pants and a pop punk band t-shirt from high school while sipping on this hot toddy, I realized just how exciting my life is. Going out for a “few drinks” ultimately ends up with a complete waste of the following day.
As you can see by my kitchen, being an “adult” doesn’t really mean much. As if you couldn’t tell by our influx of coolers, the Yuengling bottle on the wall, car supplies on the floor, or the 1988 Spuds Mackenzie Bud Light calendar on the wall, I haven’t really completely grasped this whole being an adult thing. While I’m 87% sure that I just want to stay in and watch The Notebook tonight, I’ll probably drag myself out of these dirty worn out clothes, grab a shower, and go out for a little bit tonight. Hopefully tomorrow doesn’t end up like today.