Just returned from carousing with the moms at a local watering hole...so not in the best state of mind to write anything at the moment. (Only had one drink, but after an intensely active day one drink can pack a punch.)
Yes, I made it out to the bar with the other moms...and I think almost all of us were in a state of shock that we were actually sitting in a bar at night with other adults having a drink and chatting.
And that it was fun.
What was fun was the actual conversation part of it; but we were shouting at each other to be heard over the din. The place was packed (I don't know how we managed to snag a large table in the corner, but we did). There was nothing nostalgic for me about being in a crowded, cacophonous bar in the middle of San Francisco. But the fact was that all of us knew how hard it had been for each one of us to get there and remain awake and sociable for the next two hours...our smiles of support for each other, and efforts to have meaningful conversations over the noise, weren't faked.
Somehow it all worked. I came away from it strangely recharged, I must admit. Even though I'm now desperate to hit the sack.
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