When I was a teenager, I thought getting “old” was the worst and most depressing thing that could happen to a person. I remember watching The Golden Girls growing up and thinking those old ladies were so sad and boring, just sitting around their house chatting while playing cards in their muumuus. But as I’ve gotten older, my view on that has completely changed. Now I realize those hot old broads were actually living their best lives: sassy, unapologetic, and not to mention, super comfy.

Those of us fortunate enough to be entering midlife should take notes, because, it turns out, the second half of life looks pretty damn awesome. What’s not to love? Staying home, early bed and dinner times, chillin’ with your girlfriends, bingo(!), and extremely high-coverage swimwear are my jam. I’ll have what they’re having, wicker chairs and Boca-chic matching patterned top-and-bottom sets included. Bring on my Golden Girls Era!

I still have young children at home, so I can’t go full Golden Girls and play bridge all day while eating cheeseballs and gossiping with my girlfriends. As much as I would love to. But I can certainly channel their homebody energy, sass, and general no f*cks given vibes.

So, this is it. I’m officially resigning from being fun — or at least what I thought fun was in my 20s, the kind of fun that starts after 9pm. My idea of a good time once involved lots of alcohol, questionable choices, and a loud smoky club in the wee hours of the morning. Nowadays, I’m what you would call daytime fun. Need someone to grab lunch, coffee, or mall walk (I know, I know) with? I’m your gal! I had a good run, but it’s over now.

From now on, you can find me under a weighted blanket, eating an ice cream sundae, and loving every second of it. All I wish for at this juncture in life is to enjoy my green tea and cult documentaries in peace.

I slowly feel the FOMO evaporating. The pressure is off and I’m all about living the way I want, instead of doing what I think I should be doing. The responsibilities of adulting and especially parenting have left me exhausted so I have little energy — mental or physical — to take on the demanding and onerous task of being fun. Leaving my house seems less and less desirable. The mere thought of staying out past 10:30 p.m. and leaving my cat and my cozy blanket strike fear into my heart. I never want to see a pair of uncomfortable sky-high stilettos that I used to walk dozens of blocks in, again. That muumuu is calling my name.

The thing is, I’ve had fun. So much stinking fun. More fun than any person should be allowed to have. So, I don’t need to be out actively having fun because my multitude of memories of it will sustain me. And, since I don’t go out now, I have morphed into an early riser, which I find so much more productive.

I no longer possess the naïve invincibility that youth affords you. In fact, quite the opposite. I know my limitations. And they involve not being hungover. Remember being in your twenties? Party all night, then proceed like nothing happened. Those days are done! The last time I drank too much I was rudely awoken — both physically and metaphorically — by a screaming infant who did not understand the value of sleeping in. I spent the day feeling like I had been run over by a truck all the while trying to take care of a kid. Never again.

It’s all about the attitude in this new era. The Golden Girls say and do whatever the hell they want and I’m here for it all the way. Blanche’s spunk is life-giving, and I’m definitely channeling some of Dorthy’s trademark grumpiness and that Sophia snark. Don’t let those muumuus (which look soooo comfy) fool you, those girls were whip smart and hilarious with their biting humor and double entendres.

The best part of the Golden Girls was their love and devotion for each other. The idea of a chosen family made from a squad of the coolest girls makes my heart sing. I love my spouse immeasurably, but there’s just nothing like girlfriends. Especially when your besties are like Rose and company. The Golden Girls loved a good late night (which is probably like 8:45 p.m.) snack and gossip sesh. Them sitting around a cheesecake, four spoons in hand, laughing uncontrollably is goals. Thank you for being a friend, indeed.

Seriously, who wants to be young and fun when you can be old and grumpy?

This is who I am now, and I like it. Come join me. Bring some cheesecake and a spoon.

Christina Crawford is a Dallas-based writer, guacamole enthusiast, and mom to three feral little boys. She spends her days putting out fires (actual and metaphorical) and trying to keep goldfish alive. Her words have appeared in Newsweek, HuffPost, Health Magazine, Parents, Scary Mommy, Today Show Parents, and more. You can follow along on Twitter where she writes (questionably) funny anecdotes about her life at @Xtina_Crawford