Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Mama Can't Hang No More


Mama can't hang no more, no more, no more.

I've been singing this in my head all day long to the tune of Hit The Road Jack. It's been a special day. You see, I went out last night. Not out, out like I once did. Just a little out. I took my kids to an AJR concert, where I consumed one beverage at the very beginning of the concert, and then I promptly got a headache. I wound up asking those sitting around us for Advil. This morning it took me two cups of coffee to feel normal and a third midday, in addition to a more than normal amount of water. My ankles were slightly swollen all day from standing on them all night long. I put my children to bed at promptly 8 p.m. so I myself could go to bed to continue the "recovering."

Long gone are the days of going out all night and waking up chipper in the morning. Even the days of roaming Target until 9 p.m., coming home, cleaning, and then going to bed are long gone. There are the rare occasions a friend and I finish a bottle of wine in a night, but I reserve those times for weekends only. Or at the very least, when I don't have to be awake before 10 a.m. and nowhere to be for at least an entire day. That's the kind of 'Mama can't hang no more' level we're at.

I refuse to say I'm old. I'm not. I feel as though my best is yet to come, but holy hell. I guess, if anything, last night proved that if I'm out later than 7 p.m. on a weeknight, I won't turn into a pumpkin! But I will feel like hell for a solid 24 hours afterwards.