I forgot how fun bars are

I have, inevitably, caught the twins' cold. When they were sicker at the beginning of the week, I marveled at their capacity for whine, but now I marvel at my own capacity for sitting upright and participating in inane child-led conversation, so perhaps their cold was worse than I thought. Or maybe I'm just a weenie.

I had planned on going to a girls' night out karaoke thing last night, but as the evening approached and my whole self clotted with mucus (come on, you know you want me), I had doubts about how much fun I would have. I went anyway, in an ongoing effort to not be a flake and instead actually do what I say I will do, and surprised myself by having a fabulous time. It's like the bar atmosphere itself lifts my spirits. Even before my first drink, I felt lighter and happier than I have in a while, and my husband (who is not a girl and who we included, generously, nonetheless) laughed at my transformation into a much younger, livelier version of myself.

I love my friends, my friends' friends, my husband, and alcohol. I love my mother for watching my herd and my herd for not giving her too hard a time. I love that I'm going out again! Tonight! For dinner with friends. And again again! Tomorrow! For an art fundraiser at my son's school. It's a revelation, that the world has been out there waiting while I've been living the same day 260 times over with few variations.