Up late with no regrets
This Sunday was the first Sunday in a year where I intentionally scheduled nothing.
Coming into the weekend, I realized that meant I could do something I haven’t done since January 2021.
Watch the UFC fights.
It’s the only sport I care to pay for and make time to watch. When people start talking to me about football, I usually stop them in their tracks. (Is Brett Favre still playing?)
Since the fights are almost exclusively on Saturday nights, I’ve had to skip out on them. They run late, usually ending around 2am.
That’s not conducive to waking up at 6am to prep for morning and afternoon sessions. I didn’t have to worry about that this weekend.
On Saturday, my buddy and I competed in a chess tournament. He did great, going 4-1 and securing third place in his section. I did okay, with two wins and three losses.
We got a late dinner and some beers. He asked if I wanted to hang with him and his roommates at their place to watch the fight. No, in fact, I did not want to do that.
Instead, he dropped me off, I made a vodka drink (not a whiskey drink), and bought the fights.
They were incredible. It felt like an old piece of me I loved was awakened. I was standing up and cheering in my living room.
On paper, it sounds quite lonely to pay for a UFC card, drink a cocktail, and stay up late all by oneself. But it was me-time I’ve been craving for months.
I woke up Sunday morning much later than normal—around 9am. I was groggy and slightly hungover (from three drinks, thanks 28 years of age).
And I was happy.
There was nothing on my calendar. I had nothing to do. I drove back to Baltimore to pick up my jacket and sunglasses I left at the tournament the day before. It was a gorgeous day. A best buddy called me and we chatted for two hours. I read a comic book. I listened to a podcast.
I got nothing done. And it was a productive day.
Productive for my mind and soul (whatever that means). It was peaceful. I could get used to this.
Today, I feel well-rested and ready to jump into the week. I’m a fan of taking weekly vacations—which I think normal people just call “weekends.”