“With age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone.” – Oscar Wilde
I polled some of The Elders at work and from what I (wanted to) hear, it’s all smooth sailing from here. No more pain on waking up (physical pain, that is, existential pain will always be there) and it’s just good times, good vibes, and goodbye phantom pains. 40 years old if anyone is keeping score at home and I doubt anyone is except for my fellow class of 2000 peeps (hands down the best class of all time ever).
I’m not where I want to be in life but truth be told, I don’t know where I want to be. Does anyone? I’m kind of envious of people who are driven and know what they want in life but that’s not for me. At least, I don’t see any way that could be me. Rather, I have vague ideas and notions and I believe *everyone* has goal posts in life and at one point, some of those goal posts for me were to be married and have kids, or have moved away forever (that’s the romantic and not pragmatist in me), or be mega rich as a stockbroker ‘ c’mon DOGE.
I probably still want those on some level (the rich one so I can fuck around and find out) but obviously it’s not as much of a priority as reading, napping, and playing video games. Also playing homeowner. I don’t know a lot about owning a home other than it’s a money pit and there’s probably sea water threatening to fill this hole in North Texas where I just know there is some fucking buried treasure but we have to go deeper.
At any rate, I can’t let my failures at achieving those and more seriously varied, vague flights of fancy (going into outer-fucking-space, summiting Everest, getting to the Marianas Trench [lol fuck this in particular]) goals affect me. More truth to power, they don’t. At least, not that I’m willing to admit? I’ve been torn lately on what you can use to fully describe your thoughts/feelings/emotions on a topic and I can’t say that I absolutely don’t care about success but I can say that it doesn’t drive/motivate/putthefearofgod in me on things. It’d be cool to but at the same time, whatever. Kind of like winning the chili eating contest at a State Fair or something.
I’ve gotten more introspective as I’m aging. I guess that’s a not-required-but-highly-encouraged avenue of approach to getting older. I was talking to one of my BFFs on the actual phone about random shit and he’s definitely older and most likely wiser but hey, he also doesn’t have all of his shit figured out.
That’s a relief.
He’s mosdefs more put together than I ever will be but is that really a contest?
If you have your shit figured out let me know I’m all
ears…eyes, whatever, via text message.
But back to actual phone calls – he said that he didn’t think I was really as extroverted as social medias me portrayed myself *gasp*. I was like “uhhhh” and I had to question his bff status. I might not answer the phone next time mofo. I have to come clean to everyone…I actually like staying home by myself and not talking to people all weekend. Surprising, I know. Perhaps now you’ll see me less of me in my 40s through no fault (but extreme benefit) of your own. The horror.
That’s a lot of words to talk about about some dude making…arriving, stumbling into his 40s. I don’t technically level up until this afternoon but enjoy your time here as none of us are making it out alive. I think I’m supposed to unlock some powers. That didn’t happen at 18, 21, 25, 30, 35 so maybe this is the time.
Let’s see what the rest of 40 has to offer. Hopefully x-ray vision and a full head of hai-…,.millions in my bank account works so I can pettily drop my ATM receipt somewhere.
To leave you with my favorite quote of the last ten years – “don’t sweat the small stuff, and it’s all small stuff!”