What a crappy song that was. And now I’ve got it stuck in my bloody head! Guess I’ll have to play Dead Kennedys/Dead Milkmen/Sex Pistols/Social D very loudly when I go to lunch here in short order. I included them all since I’m not sure what I’ll care to listen to. But it will be one of the above.
So I reckon December 3d is as good a point as any to start the final countdown to the end of my glorious twenties. Seven days to go. One short week and I’ll officially be – what? I’d love to be considered an old man. I’ve been working on my crotchetieness and cantankerousness for years and I was hoping I could finally be considered an old man and thereby get away with being a disgruntled old man – as opposed to a disgruntled young man where it’s always assumed it’s his own fault. Except for among my very few younger friends that idea seems to have been shot down completely. Those older than me say I’m too young and those old enough to be proper grumpy old people claim that when you’re that age you don’t want to think about being old.
Well, where’s the goddamned fun in that?!!!
I suppose I’ll fall into some sort of limbo. Not old enough yet to be old yet not young anymore either. What a drag. No wonder so many peoples’ lives collapse in their 30s and 40s, it’s a worse limbo than the so-called pre-teen years.
But then again, maybe I’ll have an entirely different perspective on the matter after next Wednesday.
I didn’t fulfill my hopes for my 29th year. I’m still stuck in the same miserable job, living the same not-so-miserable life. So much for the big change, maybe next year. 2003 has been a pisser of a year anyhow. Only one truly positive thing has happened all year, even all the normal highlights of the year were discombobulated. What a drag.
Hooray for 30! I’ll fill all you youngsters in on what it feels like next week. For now, I’ll continue to look warily forward to it.