I don't drink enough.
I remember having a lot of fun being a hot mess many nights of the week in my youth, but things have changed. More and more I am preoccupied with the notion of accountability, and paralyzed with the fear of regret. As time goes on and I watch the people close to me grow into a generation I feel is leaving me behind, I can't help but revisit what memories I can recall of a point in time where I really thought I fit into.
Incidentally, I don't have considerably more at stake than I did back then but it certainly seems that way a lot of the time. While I enjoy the perks of having a vehicle, an apartment, and an awesome (but minimum-wage) job, and (humorously) being the most put-together member of my family, these things keep me firmly out of the clouds. Whether those shackles of personal responsibility are real or imagined, I do credit them with my inability to experience aspects of my social life as I once did.
Maybe it's less of being a wreck that I miss so much, and more of youthful recklessness in general. I'm no model of adulthood now or anything, but it does not compare to the careless of yesteryear* that I so fondly remember.
Not that it's all bad, mind you. I'm sure several of my internal organs are much healthier than they once were, though that good health is undoubtedly being challenged by aging and a diet of junk food and sugary beverages. Part of me also enjoys being able to chuckle at the antics of the messy drunk dancing her ass off and spouting off much more than she'll admit to the next day--I'm just not sure it's as much fun as being that messy drunk at the time.
*Note for posterity: The only time I've published the word "yesteryear" in documented history.
Incidentally, I don't have considerably more at stake than I did back then but it certainly seems that way a lot of the time. While I enjoy the perks of having a vehicle, an apartment, and an awesome (but minimum-wage) job, and (humorously) being the most put-together member of my family, these things keep me firmly out of the clouds. Whether those shackles of personal responsibility are real or imagined, I do credit them with my inability to experience aspects of my social life as I once did.
Maybe it's less of being a wreck that I miss so much, and more of youthful recklessness in general. I'm no model of adulthood now or anything, but it does not compare to the careless of yesteryear* that I so fondly remember.
Not that it's all bad, mind you. I'm sure several of my internal organs are much healthier than they once were, though that good health is undoubtedly being challenged by aging and a diet of junk food and sugary beverages. Part of me also enjoys being able to chuckle at the antics of the messy drunk dancing her ass off and spouting off much more than she'll admit to the next day--I'm just not sure it's as much fun as being that messy drunk at the time.
*Note for posterity: The only time I've published the word "yesteryear" in documented history.