Saturday Night Pause

There’s something about finishing a project that makes me want to drink.

Sorry, but it’s true. No matter how long I have been awake; no matter what else is looming on the horizon, I just want to drink. It’s been that way since college – it’s like I hold my breath for however long it takes me to push through whatever it is that I’m doing – and when it comes time to exhale, I feel it everywhere. I feel the tension in my muscles, reminding me that they, too, are inside of me, and that my body wants to relax just as much as my mind has, however temporarily, been lightened of at least one thing.

Now, in a strange coincidence, I had to say “no” to three parties tonight that I really would have liked to have gone to. The thirtieth birthday of one of my closest girlfriends from high school; the not-quite-thirtieth of two of my guy friends whom I haven’t seen in forever; and, finally, a random house party with a new friend from school who apparently is a little more low-key than I am about the amount of things we have due on Monday.

Eight o clock on Saturday night and my choice is, sadly, none of the above.

I wonder what this means for me. Does it mean I’m growing up? Does it mean I’m simply too exhausted to get all prettied up and put on my social face and hop in a cab and meet and greet – meet and greet people I love, people who wouldn’t care or even notice if I arrived in the same zip-up sweatshirt and jeans I’ve been wearing for the past two days, but who would just be glad to see me? Or does it simply mean that I actually am so tired that what I really want is to curl up with my own bottle of wine, sit in my own cozy apartment, and fall into my own good night’s sleep? (Notice, of course, that the bottle of wine just slid into that sentence. I don’t even pretend it’s a glass sometimes.)

Oh, and I feel the justifications coming on… if I sleep well and early, then I’ll awake refreshed and ready to be creative and… the wine store is only a couple of blocks away and… I should get my own dinner soon anyway because the sushi delivery guy is becoming a little too familiar with my nightly order…

I’m letting my body make its own decision tonight, and what it needs is perfectly clear. It needs a little “me” time. And, having just written out a little schedule for tomorrow, I agree that it is making the right decision.