Dreaming of a Nap

I’ve now had two rather big weekends away from home, catching up with friends, eating food, enjoying life, putting on my gladrags and dressing up (gladrags – that’s a word we don’t use enough in everyday conversation and am contemplating trying to bring it back into vogue).

To tell you the truth I am exhausted.  Completely and utterly exhausted. I’m looking forward to a weekend where I can do not very much indeed, and have naps. And stay in.

When did I get so old?  I mean I have long accepted that my body does not recover the way it used to, but when did I start looking forward to doing nothing but tidying up my room and reading my book?  I’m single and 26! I should be out enjoying life to the max, drinking cocktails and having adventures a’la Carrie Bradshaw and the SATC girls.

But no, I want to put on my Bonds trackies, my “Jane Austen is my Homegirl” hoodie and just do nothing.  This is not like me.  I do not want to get old.  I think I have to inject some No-Doz into my life.