Aside from providing me with some easy fodder for a blog post, my karaoke adventure the other evening proved something:  I’m officially old.

I was okay at the bar.  I left mostly because it was the first time I’d been around that much cigarette smoke in a while and it was playing hell with my nose and throat.  If it had been a smoke-free place, I probably would have been good for another hour.  And when I got home, I was awake and kind of wired, so I didn’t actually get to bed until almost 12:45AM.  Yeah, not much midnight oil burned there, but later than I’m used to.  But I felt fine.

Cut to 5:45AM, and I was wide awake for some ungodly reason.  And on top of feeling like I swallowed a mouthful of cotton, I was tired.  Really tired.  Like a cartoon character propping their eyelids open with toothpicks tired.  Five hours of sleep isn’t exactly a lot, but I’d gotten by on that before.  Especially when my day consists of sitting at a desk.  But I was yawning and sluggish and almost begged out of our Wednesday game night like the sleepy old man I felt like.

Not that I was ever some late night warrior, but I used to be able to hit 1 or 2 and not blink.  And maybe if I was doing so consistently, the other night wouldn’t have walloped me as hard as it did.  But the fact is, my social circles don’t extend into the wee hours very often anymore, if at all.  So I don’t get the chance to push the limit as much as I used to.  Jobs and families and responsibilities are not the province of the night owl.

Funny thing is, if I’m sitting around at home ripping through episodes of something on Netflix, I can hit 2:00AM without breaking a sweat.  You’d think it would be the opposite, that being here alone would make me sleepy.  But here I am at 11:15pm typing away on this instead of getting to bed, and even though I have to get up for work tomorrow, I feel like I could keep going for another hour or two.  Whereas if I were out somewhere right now, I’d be rubbing my eyes and ready to drop.  Maybe it’s based on the proximity of my bed, on knowing that it’s only a few steps away as opposed to a long drive.

Or maybe I’m just becoming anti-social and my body is offering up an excuse.


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