Dammit, I’m Old.
I turn 30 today. I’m at that point in life where I can’t get upset when someone calls me sir. I wake up with aches and pains, and I make sure Ibuprofen is within reach at all times. I no longer vote for the representative who has the funniest name, but rather, I put the time into researching their voting history and campaign promises. Seriously though, we have a local official whose last name is Schwing, and you better believe I voted for him in the last election. Nose hair has matured to a point where it’s a threat to young children and small woodland creatures if I don’t maintain it on a regular schedule. If I inhale, the hairs will grab at them and suck them into my nasal cavity. Ending a quip with “deez nuts” is no longer acceptable, nor is it as funny as it was when I was 20. I find myself moving away from calling people retarded or a douche. Now that I’m 30 I just say things like, “I find this person unacceptable” or “I don’t like the jive of your talk, scoundrel.” I’ve experienced a lot of growth in the last decade. Made a lot of mistakes too, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m at that point in life where I know who I am, what I like and what I want out of life. Dammit, I’m old.
