My wife and I did a rare night out earlier this week, although even that wasn’t that spectacular: walk five blocks to the grocery store, buy a couple of sandwiches, and sit outside a row of restaurants on a street that serves as the western border of the PENN campus. I had gotten home pretty late that night, so even though we left the house shortly after I got home, we didn’t end up sitting down with our sandwiches until about
As we sat and talked, I spotted two interns from work walking up the street. I remembered that a number of our interns were going out dancing that night. I smiled as thought to myself that by the time they arrived at the club, my wife and I would be heading home and going to sleep.
The next morning, not a few of the interns looked a little bleary-eyed. One exclaimed that he didn’t get to bed until
My social life is boring as heck. I haven’t gone to a movie or bought a CD in at least a couple of years. The rare night I’m up past 10 I’m yawning the whole time after 10. My weekly schedule is a never-ending treadmill of work, school, chores, studying, more work, and more studying; I break it up with things like crossword puzzles and news magazines, not the kind of thing that makes for cocktail party conversation the next day.
And you know what? I couldn’t be happier. I’m not in my twenties anymore. I’m 32 going on 33, happily married, in good health, a kid on the way, mortgage is reasonable, and a whole new chapter in my professional and personal life ahead. Someone in their twenties might look at my life and just shake their head. But me, I’m loving it.
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