I'm not cool.  

Sometimes I wish I was. 

But any way you slice it...I'm not cool.

It's Saturday night.

I'm in Chicago. 

It's St. Patrick's Day weekend.

Every bar is packed.  

People are lining the streets.  

A sea of green, from clothing to beer.  

So...I go.

So, so crowded you can't move without getting hit, getting beer spilled on you, or your feet sticking to the floor.  

Drunk people.

Drunk people.

Drunk people.

I used to be so much better at partying.  

I did this in college.

And I did it...a LOT.  

(Insert incriminating picture of me from college here.  No, I'm kidding.  Friends who have them, keep them safe and sound and not on the internet)

Now, I suck at it. 

The thought of going out drinking all night is insanity.

My worst nightmare.

Suddenly I'm a 45 year old wife and mother...without being a wife...or mother...or 45.

Hmmm, wonder when that happened?

It's officially 8:23 Chicago time.

Back in my hotel.

Safe with my Chamomile Tea.