I spent New Year's Eve with Matt in New York. Unlike what I had planned on doing for years, which was go to Times Square on New Year's Eve to watch the ball drop, Matt and I kept it low-key instead. We had a nice dinner of black bean burgers, snow peas, and home-fried potato skins. Then we had this riveting conversation about whether certain vegetables would taste better cooked in butter or in olive oil (I know, we're weird people). Finally, we went to sleep. At 9 pm. Serious old-man syndrome here. My friends were right when they teased me about sleeping so early.
"Oh, so you want to go home early so you don't miss the early bird special? Well, have fun playing shuffleboard before going to bed at 8."
But truthfully, Matt and I were just too exhausted to do anything. I had a plane flight all the way back to the Northeast and had to drag my luggage through the New York subway. Matt, meanwhile, had been traipsing around town all day buying groceries for that night's dinner.
It's strange, we didn't even think about going to see the fireworks or taking a walk outside to look at the festivities. We just turned in at nine and fell promptly asleep. Matt did wake me up around midnight, and said, "Happy New Year, sweetheart" before we went back to sleep. Later on, he told me that he had woken up because he heard fireworks and inferred that it must have been people ringing in the new year. I told him I didn't hear anything. Figures. I love sleep way too much to even notice fireworks and explosions.
"Oh, so you want to go home early so you don't miss the early bird special? Well, have fun playing shuffleboard before going to bed at 8."
But truthfully, Matt and I were just too exhausted to do anything. I had a plane flight all the way back to the Northeast and had to drag my luggage through the New York subway. Matt, meanwhile, had been traipsing around town all day buying groceries for that night's dinner.
It's strange, we didn't even think about going to see the fireworks or taking a walk outside to look at the festivities. We just turned in at nine and fell promptly asleep. Matt did wake me up around midnight, and said, "Happy New Year, sweetheart" before we went back to sleep. Later on, he told me that he had woken up because he heard fireworks and inferred that it must have been people ringing in the new year. I told him I didn't hear anything. Figures. I love sleep way too much to even notice fireworks and explosions.
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