I hear I made some waves with that last post but had some positive (private) feedback to it.  This next post comes from Margo who touches on some pertinent and ever-pervasive topics of late night drinking and ‘peer pressure’.  Guess we didn’t learn enough in D.A.R.E…

The first two years post-college are the toughest in terms of adjusting to the non-partying work lifestyle.  Those of us who looked forward to our Tuesday night drink specials were in for a cruel awakening when we learned that we had to actually be awake and functional for Wednesday mornings in the real world.  That said, I have personally traversed through the the ebb and flow of withdrawal symptoms and have defeated the tempting cravings of the days when I was cool.

Drinking and going out have moved to their place in the rear-view mirror of my life and have been replaced with long dinners, a nice glass of wine with a movie on the couch, or simply going to sleep.  I felt old when sleep became more important than going out, but I have made peace with that fact…or so I thought.  This past weekend I was confronted with a form of peer pressure I was not well acquainted with, that is, the blast from the past – my old party friends.

I had a couple of out of town visitors who weren’t just good friends, but the ones with whom our friendships were founded on late nights of boozing, walks of shame, and those hilariously degrading texts from a stranger’s phone requesting to be picked up at 6AM because you cant find your keys, phone, or wallet and somehow you are missing a shoe.  Overwhelmed with excitement upon first meeting up with my friends, I did not consider how tired I was from my full day at work and proceeded to drink and go out the way I would have in college.  Needless to say, my body couldn’t handle it.  No I was not vomiting all over the bar, but rather the fun of graying-out became a whirlwind of exhaustion, headaches, and blurred vision.  My inability to enjoy the freedom of being drunk was downright embarrassing.

The next day I was ashamed to admit that the last thing I wanted to do was rally again.  This made me curious.  I thought I prided myself on being past the peer pressure stage of my life, yet I couldn’t deny the tinge of humiliation I felt.  What was it that made me so fearful of the reaction “ugh lame.”  Or “dude wtf”?  In the end, I’m still unsure. All I know, is that while I had fun, at the end of the day, I was so so SO happy to get to sleep and back to my routine.  And I refuse to believe that I am the only one.