Last night after our birthday guests left, Josh and I tumbled on the couch in collective party-stupor. And the clock read only 10:00 p.m. So. We're those friends now.
I spent today winding down from birthday week. Birthday week was delightful, albeit mentally and physically taxing. We had a wonderful time celebrating our newly minted 29-year-old. (Remind me to tell you about that time around Thanksgiving when Josh didn't know that he was already 28. The ensuing crisis was all too funny to behold.) Tonight, Birthday Boy is off doing something adorably nerdy at a game shop, and I get a night alone.
After a week like this one--and really, a month like this one--I am ready to play my introvert card and hole up for the weekend. I have done absolutely nothing productive this evening besides load the dishwasher, and that only made the cut because I pushed off unloading the dishwasher until dinner time. Tonight is not a night for sewing or cleaning or list-making. It's barely the night for blogging. Tonight is the night for Parenthood, stretchy pants, a long shower, some cocoa, a book, and very likely an early bedtime.
So world, I'm playing that introvert card, and in my game it's the trump card. If you want to go and party, then please enjoy yourself. Tonight my party has a guest-list of one, and I'm loving every second of it.