The past few nights- really the past few months- I’ve been going to bed by 930 or so. Sometimes I stay up for a half hour or so and read, but other nights I have to force myself not to crawl into bed at 7pm after I eat dinner. My tiredness is somewhat related to my HORRIBLE allergies this spring, the loads of rain we’ve been getting in MA/RI ( I sleep like a baby with the sound of it), and because I have not been as active going for walks and exercising as I should be.
These things aside, I am one of those people who has to have a good seven or so hours of sleep a night. I function well when I’m well rested and well fed! I struggled for awhile with the fact that I went to bed early, while other people my age sometimes don’t go out until 930 or 10pm ( that thought exhausts me).
I’ve often said that I think people have an internal age that often doesn’t match their actual ‘outer’ age. I was often described by my mother as “8 going on 16” or something like that because I was mature and interested in things beyond my years. With my love and passion for history, I do love all things old, so perhaps that has something to do with it.
Recently, as I’ve been settling into my new lifestyle and finding out what I want the most, I’ve grappled with this idea that my ‘inner’ age may be far older than my 29 years. I am that lady who complains to the skateboarding kids in the parking lot next to the house about loitering or yells at a teenager who litters in my street. I have frequently tweeted things with the hashtag #whendidIgetold? A recent example– getting excited about buy one, get one free chicken breast in the supermarket sale flyer. Yes, that does make me sound like a suburban soccer mom who has nothing better to do than plan her grocery list out with coupons and the sales flyer on a weekly basis. My inner age might be in my 40s, though some nights I feel like it might be about 75.
But you know what? That’s me. I’m not a soccer mom, but I’m excited about BOGO chicken breast because I’m on a tight budget and I use chicken a lot in the summer, so yes, I am pumped I’m getting two for the price of one! And I yell at those kids because it’s my neighborhood and I want it to look nice and be a great area, not because I have some personal vendetta against fun.
And yes I am proud of the fact that I go to bed at 930p and spend most of my nights watching old black and white movies or reading!
It’s taken me a long time to get to this place. Before and during marriage I was so worried of being labeled as strange, weird, or old before my time. But honestly? Who cares? I am happy in spending an entire night reading in my sunroom or watching great pieces of cinema. Playing the comparison game about thinking about other people’s lives who are out and about every day of the week is a waste of the time I could be spending thinking about things that make me happy and what I am grateful for. I will enjoy a night out when I want and in the manner I want it. I spent so much trying pretending to be something I wasn’t and pretending I wanted things that other people did– it was exhausting. Being true to myself is stress free, it’s joyful, and honestly- it’s ten kinds of awesome.
So bring on the books and some more Cary Grant please!