A year ago right about now, I was either about to pitch a temper tantrum or was being put to bed by my boyfriend for a late afternoon/early evening nap before our New Year’s Eve festivities. I was overtired; I hadn’t slept well the night before and I had gone to two (or was it three?) workout classes that morning, and then rushed home to shower and eat and pack an overnight bag that included not only everything I’d need for an NYE gala but also for a likely very hungover New Year’s Day. It was late enough in the day that the sun was about to set and I hadn’t even figured out how I was going to do my hair for the night, let alone start getting ready. We had planned to go to a friend’s house before our NYE festivities, and I had no idea how I was going to make it to midnight without passing out.
I whirled around my boyfriend’s apartment after I arrived, unpacking my bag and bemoaning how many things I still had to do before we could leave for the night. Half of my bag was unpacked before I realized he hadn’t said a single thing in response to whatever nonsense I was sputtering. I looked over at him to see that he was thoroughly unconcerned by anything I had just said.
“Well?” I prodded.
And then he said those magical words, “So why not just cancel something and get some sleep?”