my senior year of college was characterized by a lot of crying (I mean...what can you expect? it's hard to accept that you're not going be just a 5-minute walk from your closest friends everyday). it was also marked by a lot of trips to waffle house at midnight, late night walks around campus and other random activities that took the place of should-be-studying time. whenever I would start to waiver on whether I should take part in said random activity (wine and high school musical 3 anyone?), my dearest friend would look at me and say "really? we're gonna be 40 someday!" which automatically trumped any excuse I might have conjured.
so lately I have been partaking in random activities that require me to stay up into all hours of the morning rather than going to bed at 10 p.m., which my inner 85-yr old says is an ideal bedtime. see the last harry potter movie at 12:30 a.m.? sign me up! go see a fan-freaking-tastic band on a sunday night in a city 1.5 hours away? yes please! I may grumble a bit when that alarm goes off, but I'm pretty sure the memories of these evenings will remain while the tired eyes will not. after all...we're gonna be 40 someday.
and on that note, it's bedtime.