Ok, so I'm 49 years old as of midnight. Whatever.
Not such a milestone age really. Not like when I turned 40 when things got really ugly and I partied for 3 days non-stop and then grieved for a year afterward.
Naw...
49 isn't like that.
At 49, I just accept things
Things like...
A.) I appreciate soups now
B.) I can still party at clubs until closing time, but it takes me 48 hours to recover.
C.) I've developed an odd affinity for space heaters and duvets.
D.) I keep 3 of my heart pills in the left pocket of my jeans in case I end up somewhere away from home before I go to sleep.
E.) I track our household budget in a columnar pad instead of an Excel spreadsheet and hoard used rubber bands in the pencil drawer of my desk just like my grandpa used to do.
F.) I can remember a time when I paid 39 cents a gallon to fill up my 1975 Gremlin.
G.) I can remember being poor and trying to wait until I got my paycheck from the stadium on Friday to fill up my 1975 Gremlin.
H.) I can remember when simply being a pretty gay boy was enough to get by on...and it used to be dangerous and subversive and sneaky and entitled and just plain very fucking exciting and fun.
Anyways...
Hmmmm
Oh well...I still act like I'm 12 years old most of the time. It's true...boys really never grow up.
T
