Yeah, I guess I'm doing yet another post about getting old.
In just a few days I'm going to be 43 years old. Last week my mom asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday. I told her that I had no idea. "Nobody celebrates turning 43 years old. After 35 birthdays don't really have that much relevance, anyway.", I told her. My 68 year old mom said, "Really, after 25, for that matter." Fair enough, mom.
My wife keeps asking me what I want to do for my birthday. And I seriously have no idea. I kinda want to go out to eat, but also don't because eating at restaurants is expensive. But I also don't want to get take out because that's expensive, too. But I also don't want to eat in because it's a weeknight so I'll have to do the cooking, anyway.
So I guess I just wish that my birthday wasn't happening this year. Maybe I should wait two more years to celebrate my birthday because at least I'd be celebrating a milestone of some sort.
Blink 182 said that no one likes you when you're 23. But when you're 43? No one even gives a shit.
Maybe that's the direction this blog is going to head in. Me trying to find that ability to grow into the middle age in-between childhood and old age that us millennials had been forced into without the "young adult" era that our boomer and Gen X predecessors were given. We were infantilized for so long and when you combine that with our economic circumstances where we had to kick, punch, and claw our way to being barely middle class, the suddenly coming of being middle aged is hitting especially hard. And that's even if you managed to make it to barely middle class. I was one of the lucky ones on that. Not all of my millennial companions can say they did.
But either way, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing for my birthday.
