Just for a day...

Thursday afternoon I walked down the street from my office to eat lunch at Qdoba. Just myself, chicken three-cheese nachos and a good book. (Ignore that widget in my sidebar that says I'm reading the Abe Lincoln book. That thing, while interesting, is a bug killer and it'll take me 10 years to read that...must update Shelfari later.)

It was nice to be out of the office and to actually see sun. The weather's been so hot here lately - we literally jumped from 60 degree temps to 90+ and they've stuck for nearly a week. The intense heat and humidity is really stifling. I've been staying inside for the most part, wasting away my lunch hours playing Mafia Wars or Algerian Patience.

But Thursday I'd had enough and needed a break from the gloom of my closet office.

My new office building is on a street known for its many many bars and clubs. (This shot was taken from the back of hubby's bike, on the street in front of my office building during Harley's 100th Anniversary.)

I looked up from my book at one point to see what were, at the moment, just rows of silent and empty buildings with brightly painted façades.

No crowds. No lights. No lines snaking out the door.

No music pouring out the propped-open front doors. No too scantily-clad 22-year-olds table dancing in the front windows. No groups of friends sneaking drinks, glass and all, out of one bar and into another. (Not that that ever happened. *A-hem.*)

The Hubster and I frequented these bars back when we were still young enough to think they were the places to be...back when we were in our early twenties and we went out every night, looking for the best free appetizers and cheapest drinks.

It was always a balancing game - good food and cheap drinks versus the type of music the bar would play and the size of the crowd. For instance, it doesn't matter if its $.25 wing night or if there's a beer promo if its asses to elbows.

We'd stay out until bar close...on Tuesdays, each of us getting up and off to work by 8 am. We'd hit Webb's at three in the morning and survive just fine after a short nap and a shower.

We had such good times back then...we were all skinnier and had more hair...and the hair we had was much less gray.

I can't remember the last time I laughed once as hard as I did regularly back then.

I can't remember the last time I danced until I thought my feet were going to fall off.

Hell, I can't even remember the last time I had just one too many beers.

I see twenty-somethings walking around, tan, in their flip flops with their iPhones and their over-sized sunglasses, hear them talking about going to the afternoon's Brewer game AND hitting up Summerfest afterward.

I know the good that I have in my life. My kids and my hubby...my family at large...they rock and I wouldn't trade them for the world.

I wouldn't want to relive the drama of my early twenties any more than I'd want to relive high school. {shudder}

But just once...just for a day. A SINGLE DAY.

I'd love to have that feeling back...no worries...no priorities...no schedule.

And enough time to actually get a tan.