I don't like New Year's Eve.
Mostly because it's just another chance to remind myself how much fun I'm not.
I'm sorry, but I've been an old lady since I was like 10.
Staying up late is just not fun for me.
I've got to go to bed at a sensible time.
And I need every minute of my eight hours.
Also because regardless of what time Carolyn goes to bed, she's up between 6:30 and 7 am every morning, and good grief, I've got to be able to keep up with her.
Anyway, it turned out that this year, both Husband and I were awake at 12.
I was not awake because I wanted to be, but because I couldn't sleep due to the large amounts of caffeine I'd consumed earlier in the evening.
I mean, we'd already partied it up to the fullest by 9:30, popped the Welch's grape, and refrained from yelling at the hood rats for setting fireworks right by our back door.
Have I mentioned that I'm an old lady?