As a stay-at-home-mummy, I may get a chance to pop to a local cafe, grab a quick lunch with a friend or shuffle around to my neighbours house; for a natter wearing something elasticated.
Last weekend, however, I got to go out out! Yesssssssss! A girlfriend from London came to visit. We booked a hotel, got dressed up, had dinner at a restaurant, drank in several bars and made our way back to the hotel and continued drinking and talking until 4am. I felt like such a rebel. I felt young. I felt fabulous.
If it sounds like I’m bragging – I am! I don’t get out much. If what I have described, is your average weekend or what you would consider quiet, then well done you! For me, this was a rare moment to savour. A chance to leave all my drama, stress and anxiety at home. I enjoyed every moment of it.
Hair done and heels on, we waited for our taxi. I felt like the chubby kid at school, that had finally been picked to play! You see, I’m the friend, you chat to about your issues. The girl you call, to chew over the details of your love life, work troubles and health complaints. The girl that gets the gossip from the night out – without actually going on the night out.
I don’t mind being the person people trust; I actually treasure that…but it was nice to come first this weekend. To my dear friend who made that happen. To my lovely November Sister. I love you and thank you.
I felt and looked like a grown up. Not a mummy. Not a patient. Not a name on a contact list, that you keep meaning to text but don’t. This weekend I felt a priority. Significant. Normal.
The FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) phenomenon, largely passes me by, due to my absence from social media. Being out at the weekend, reassured me that I hadn’t missed a thing. The bars and restaurants are very much the same. The dodgy music, that gets belted out after 11.30pm, is still shocking. Love Shack! YMCA! Seriously?. That one guy that has basically tried it on, with every woman in the place and is still giving it 100! The stunning bar staff, overpriced drinks and the wonderful way; strangers chat like old friends after a few wines. All of it, still makes me smile.
Back at the hotel, we put our PJs on and continued drinking and talking for hours. I never would have thought, I would stop drinking at 4am and still make it to Church for 11am.
I wanted to go so I made the time.
I felt a little fragile during the service. My singing was replaced by a silent and very subtle sway but I was there. My weary body was in need of a nap but my heart was smiling, at the memory of a wonderful weekend and my dedication to making the Sunday Service.
Age Ain’t Nothing but a Number!