Sleep Is My Favorite Hobby

Reason #2 that your 30's are actually awesome:

Sleep is my favorite hobby.

Every single night, without fail, I climb into bed before 10pm and say to my husband “ahhhh...my favorite time of the whole entire day.” I go on and on about how much I love getting in bed. I comment on how fluffy my pillow is. How soft my memory foam mattress feels. How the temperature is perfect with the fan on. Why does my husband allow me to do this every day? It’s like he’s living out the movie Groundhog Day every single night. He responds like it’s the first time I’ve ever said these things. Sometimes he even tells me “my favorite time is when Young finally goes to sleep and we have 2 hours to Netflix and chill.” I also pretend it is the first time he has expressed this sentiment. He’s a dream sometimes.

You can really substitute “sleep” with any solitary activity. My favorite hobby is “taking bubble baths” “getting pedicures by myself” “reading a book” “hiding in the bathroom checking my Instagram while eating oreos and drinking wine.” It all works. Let’s be real for one minute. When you enter your 30s, people need you. Your husband needs you. Your baby (ies) needs you. Your dog needs you. Your job needs you. Even if you aren’t married, your friends need you. The various things that you’ve committed to need you. The best activity of all activities is any 30 minutes where you are responding to no one’s needs and have no obligations to attend.

My most recent favorite day looked like this:

Husband: Do you want to go to the Children’s Museum?

Me: No.

Husband: Is it cool if I take Young to the Children’s Museum?

Me: (Praise Hands) (Heart Eyes Emoji) (Tears of joy)

The next 4 hours: 30 minute workout, 1 hour bubble bath, make-up free Saturday complete with converse tennies, leggings and an oversize sweater. Solo trip to Costco, Aldi, Publix, and The Oops factory for retail therapy to recover from Costco on a Saturday. #bestdayever

Husband: We had so much.

Me: I missed you guys! (Heart explodes with laughter)

In my 20’s, solitude was the worst. I craved stimulation at all times. I needed to be with friends, walking around campus, with my significant other(s), hanging at a public coffee shop, sometimes class, sitting in Marion Square with other people individually so that we could be individually together, some sorority function, anything but my room. Any time spent alone warranted an explanation. What’s wrong with you? Why are you not with your friends? Or your boyfriend? Just hanging out in a public space? All of my minutes needed to be social. Not anymore, friends. Just turn off the lights, lock the door, and let me be. “Alexa, play ‘Florence + The Machine’ radio on Pandora.” “Alexa, volume 4.”

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