Wednesday
Sep142011
Where Shit Gets Real...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011 at 11:05AM
I know 26 isn't old. I know this fact. Five hundred or a thousand years ago, sure it was a lifetime. But today, I'm planning to be around for another sixty years. But I can't help, having just celebrated my birthday, that I'm old. I feel slightly past my prime and feel like my best days are behind me.
I realized the other day that I graduated high school 8 years ago. I graduated college 4 years ago. Still, not that long of a time, but when I was younger I was idealistic. I expected great things to be happening in my life by this point. I expected that by this point I would have things figured out. That life's great mysteries would have unraveled like the yellow brick road in front of me and all I would have to do is stroll through life enjoying the people around me and admiring the scenery. But I suppose I should have paid more attention to the movie and the parts with flying monkeys.
It doesn't help that my boss is the same age as me. Or that my friends are settling down and getting married. It doesn't help that people younger than me seem to have already figured out what they want to do and where they want to be. Nor does it help that the big bang of graduation has scattered my friends across the country. Or that people younger (even by just a couple years) find it easier to go out and party and drink the way I used to. I'm more inclined to feel like crap the next day if I try to do that, or would much prefer drinking at home with my girlfriend and watching a movie or catching up on TiVo.
These things just make me feel old. I always thought that this is what old people would do. They stop going out. They stop having fun. They don't drink as much. They start to feel pain in their back and their knees. (This is becoming an increasingly bigger problem for me.)
Although, I suppose one could look at it as not growing old but becoming more mature. Noticing the benefits of staying in with a loved one. Or thinking of the narrowing field of possibilities as a blessing - heading towards the ideal job, the silvery goal that blinds you in the sunlight.
I've been making a lot of progress these days. I've published my first collection of short stories, "Not My Problem" on Amazon Kindle. (Available here: http://amzn.com/B005FRGJQW) I've finished my first real novel and am editing it now. It'll be published by the end of the month. I've moved into a house with my amazing girlfriend. A woman whose patience with me is as infinite as the support she gives me. I've settled in nicely and I've found a path of things that interests me. My parents seem to respect me and finally see me as an adult.
I'm getting older. That's an indisputable fact. Things are changing for me and the things that I did and could do in my youth are gone. My world is very different and it seems like it happened all of a sudden, like waking up in a Talking Heads song. But maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe I'm not growing old, but finally growing up.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'll let you know.
I realized the other day that I graduated high school 8 years ago. I graduated college 4 years ago. Still, not that long of a time, but when I was younger I was idealistic. I expected great things to be happening in my life by this point. I expected that by this point I would have things figured out. That life's great mysteries would have unraveled like the yellow brick road in front of me and all I would have to do is stroll through life enjoying the people around me and admiring the scenery. But I suppose I should have paid more attention to the movie and the parts with flying monkeys.
It doesn't help that my boss is the same age as me. Or that my friends are settling down and getting married. It doesn't help that people younger than me seem to have already figured out what they want to do and where they want to be. Nor does it help that the big bang of graduation has scattered my friends across the country. Or that people younger (even by just a couple years) find it easier to go out and party and drink the way I used to. I'm more inclined to feel like crap the next day if I try to do that, or would much prefer drinking at home with my girlfriend and watching a movie or catching up on TiVo.
These things just make me feel old. I always thought that this is what old people would do. They stop going out. They stop having fun. They don't drink as much. They start to feel pain in their back and their knees. (This is becoming an increasingly bigger problem for me.)
Although, I suppose one could look at it as not growing old but becoming more mature. Noticing the benefits of staying in with a loved one. Or thinking of the narrowing field of possibilities as a blessing - heading towards the ideal job, the silvery goal that blinds you in the sunlight.
I've been making a lot of progress these days. I've published my first collection of short stories, "Not My Problem" on Amazon Kindle. (Available here: http://amzn.com/B005FRGJQW) I've finished my first real novel and am editing it now. It'll be published by the end of the month. I've moved into a house with my amazing girlfriend. A woman whose patience with me is as infinite as the support she gives me. I've settled in nicely and I've found a path of things that interests me. My parents seem to respect me and finally see me as an adult.
I'm getting older. That's an indisputable fact. Things are changing for me and the things that I did and could do in my youth are gone. My world is very different and it seems like it happened all of a sudden, like waking up in a Talking Heads song. But maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe I'm not growing old, but finally growing up.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'll let you know.
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