Second chances

I used to blog nearly every week with my thought-provoking diatribes about the inner termoil of an early 20-something living in a college town in the South. Still in my 20's, just barely, I have gone back and reviewed some of my entries and found the early 20's me is dying, ever so enigmatically, and this makes me a little sad.

Please do not misinterpret, I am happily married with a dog and three small stepchildren, whom I adore profoundly. I am not complaining about my station in life, I am merely reflecting on my past life. I used to go out nightly and drink like a fish. I had a "real" job as a receptionist at a law firm, so I was pseudo-responsible, but thankfully the firm I worked for at the time was very small and the phone rang about 10 times a day. At 5:02 I would meet my girlfriends down at the bar (we affectionately called it the mothership) and we would commence drinking $2 domestic draws until at least midnight. I would wake up the next morning, slightly hungover but no worse for wear, and go to work to do it all over the next day. I bet we would qualify as binge drinkers and/or functional alcoholics. It was great fun and I miss the conversation and comradery of those days.

Recently, I went out with the same group of girls I had back then. It was the same and different all at once. It was a little surreal while at the same time being incredibly comfortable. Like an old friend coming to a new home. We had a good time and I didn't get home until late. The difference is now I cannot have that many beers in one sitting and still expect to be functional the next day? Hell no. And, strangely, I'm ok with that.

Were the good 'ol days as good as we thought....really? Yes, they were, but there are still good 'ol days to be had.