I have about a million photos to dump and will get to that later today. I'll probably put them up on Alexander's blog. If I can muster up enough energy.
Last night, I went out with a couple of high school friends.
I adore them.
I have never known two boys in my life who are more down to earth than Chris and Joe. Their personalities have never wavered over the years and I have always been able to show my authentic self to them. Along with Kelli, these guys just get me and love me for who I am. The four of us find time every few months to get a couple of drinks and catch up on life. They make me laugh and we have the best time.
When I was getting ready to go out, it occurred to me that I wasn't very excited to go out. And I LOVE going out with friends. This lack of excitement isn't really me so I shrugged it off to vacation mentality and went about my way of figuring out what a 41 year old should wear to a bar.
My lack of enthusiasm about choosing an outfit to wear should have been my first clue.
But I missed the sign.
I jumped in the car, turned up Bon Jovi and drove to the bar. I parked. And I sat. And I sat. All the while talking myself into walking into a 20something bar (bad choice, Kelli) to hang out with people I adore.
My lack of enthusiasm to walk into a bar should have been my second clue.
But I missed the sign.
We spent a couple of hours, in a very noisy bar (beer pong in a bar?), next to a couple of guys who we suspect, were embracing the legality of pot. We had a couple of drinks, did some laughing, talked about Dad and grieving and being middle age.
It was when I uttered the words "middle age" that I saw the sign.
I've lost my fun mojo.
Instead of having a night where we were laughing over high school moments as we typically do, the conversation had turned to death, middle age, and the predictablity of being a grown up. I NEVER talk about this stuff. And if I do, I certainly don't talk about it in a bar! Last night, I was that person I never thought I could be - absolutely no fun.
In the past few weeks, I kept telling myself I would care after the holidays. I would engage in life, find the things that make me happy, and be ok. However, during a vacation when I typically socialize like a fiend, I haven't done anything nor have I wanted to do anything with friends. I could care less about seeing people. I was supposed to host book club tomorrow and cancelled because I just don't feel up to putting on a show. Going out and having fun feels like SO MUCH WORK. And there is no one who enjoys going out and having fun more than this girl.
Right now, it feels like nothing really matters. Nothing. I get out of bed because of Eric and Alexander. I go through the motions at work because I have to get go to work. I don't care about paying bills, planning Alexander's birthday party, or going to work next week. I don't care if the house is clean, dishes are done, or laundry is put away. I just want to sit on my couch and do nothing. I see that Eric is worried. He continues to love on me and push me a little each day to do something productive, even when I snap at him. He worries that I may never come out of this funk.
I don't know if this lack of fun mojo is normal. I don't know if this is a stage, a phase or my new reality. Turns out, I don't really give a damn to find out. Turns out, it takes a lot of energy to care.