When the hubby asked me if I wanted to sneak out on a Sunday night to go to the concert, I was astoundingly, excitedly, extremely meh about the whole idea. It meant leaving the kid alone again (it’s beginning to become a habit and I’m starting to feel a little dirty about it) while we pretended to be cool and hip and ready to party on a whim. But I’ve been in a weird headspace since I’ve retired and I was pretty sure I could muster up the strength to roll off the couch after the sun went down. While…