11:59 p.m.

Happy Birthday to you

I’m having a quarter life crisis. I think it’s finally dawned on me that what I do now will directly affect the rest of my life. Either I succeed in life or I fail; but I’ve got to choose which one – and I have to do it now.

Today Jake, my co-worker’s son, said he was “nearly six”. He’s got five months to go until he’s six. I’ll be 24 until 11:59:59 pm on September 3rd. Soon, I’ll be telling people I’m 29 and 32 months. Kids are too eager to grow up; I’m wishing time would just slow down.

Exhibit A: I got carded while I was buying a pack of cigarettes the other day. The clerk must’ve just turned 18. I showed her my ID, and her response - “Wowwww ... (long pause) ... you don’t look that old.” Ok, maybe this would’ve made me feel better if I was 53. Probably not. Who likes to be told they’re old - regardless of whether or not they look young?

Exhibit B: I can remember being 15 (yes, my memory still works a little). I had so many milestones ahead of me: at 16 I got my license; at 18 I could legally buy tobacco; at 21 I could drink. Each birthday held some new and exciting promise of maturity. The only thing I have to look forward to now...my insurance rates will go down at 25 and I’ll be able to rent a car. When I was fifteen, twenty-five seemed so old. I couldn’t fathom being that old and decrepit. I have 42 years until the next milestone – social security at age 67. How depressing.

Exhibit C: I’ve found myself acting like my grandmother; “Huh?”, “What?”, “Who?” I swear I’ve lost my hearing in the past month. I thought I saw a gray hair last week. I misplace everything. Including but not limited to: my keys, my purse, lighters, money, my dog, my sanity...et cetera.

Luckily, my biological clock lacks batteries, or I’d really be having a mental breakdown. I’ve yet to feel the urge to reproduce. Maybe that’ll wait until I’m thirty.

Anywho, do you see what you have to look forward to? Enjoy 23 while you have it...time flies and soon you’ll be walking with a cane, fixing your comb-over and wishing your Depends were a little more absorbent. Happy Birthday Sweetcheeks – only 2 more years until your last decent milestone.

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