I’m turning 30 this year. While the number has no real meaning to me, the physical limitations that coincide are becoming more and more frustrating. Now I am not old. I know that. I realize that. I can gain a lot by relying on that fact. But I am older. The fact that it is now noticeable is quite disconcerting. Here some examples:
Stairs. I used to be able to go up stairs. Now I’m not a complete waste. I can manage a flight of stairs without breaking a sweat, but I am breathing harder than when I started. If I take two or more flights I experience chaffing thighs, runners high, and distinct feelings of regret. Now I can blame my physique but that would necessitate action and I’m content blaming my age and looking for escalators from here on out.
Drinking. I remember the days when a hangover consisted of brief bouts of puking with elongated headaches. Those were the days. Hangovers now consist of headaches, nausea, dirtying of chonies, lying to loved ones, and complete apathy to live for a week or so.
Pants. I remember the days I dressed depending on how I wanted to look that night. That was pretty sweet. I would be all “Hey, how does this look?” And if nonchalant grunts followed I changed. Now I dress according to what the fuck fits me that night. If its a full moon and I had too much watermelon, well it better be Adidas elastic shorts night at the club, otherwise I could go in my pajamas, boxers, or tie my comforter around me. I guess this isn’t old age just my stubbornness to buy bigger pants. It might stem from the fact that my nickname is already Sgt. Big Pants.
Passing out. I pass out now. Now this is different from college when 90% of your friends were passing out from extracurriculars. I now pass out in front of the television at 1 a.m. watching the slap chop guy. I used to mock my father for such abuses but now I do the exact same thing with astonishing regularity. It starts with a slow and gentle malaise that some might call apathy to leave a comfortable sofa. This turns into an altogether paralysis to do anything, even change the channel. You are then left to wake up at 5 in the morning watching Murder She Wrote.
Responsibility. Still trying to avoid this so let’s move on.
Time. The other day I did nothing. I mean I literally came home, sat down, and did nothing. I became very aware and bored of the nothing so I figured I should do something, but before I knew it, It was 1 a.m. and time to sleep. My problem is doing nothing exhausts so much time now that I am older. I used to be able to waste significant amounts of time in high school and it would feel like weeks. Hell, I spent four years in college accomplishing little to no amount of sizable achievements and that felt like pretty much four years. Now if I get caught watching a couple episodes of “It’s Always Sunny” my whole night is shot.
So come and take me 30’s. I may be only moderately prepared but I am well aware I have little to no say in the matter.