Almost 30
Tomorrow marks another year of my life. Not quite my third decade, but pretty dang close. Close enough that I can insert a coin into the mounted silver binoculars on the birthday precipice (cotton candy and souvenirs shop off to the left, bathrooms to the right) and see thirty quickly approaching off the horizon. A dark storm of years, bringing with it hair leaving my head for other parts of my body, fat cells ever more recalcitrant, joints popping and groaning like a set of bad brakes… age ever marches forward.
Time is, in fact, a royal bitch.
My knee hurts now. Whenever the weather changes, my knee throbs. Change in pressure, perhaps. Perhaps it is the fact that my knee just hates cold weather and likes to share that fact with the rest of my nervous system. I don’t know. I do know that the being almost thirty is not a bad thing. It doesn’t bother me all that much. My brother-in-law, two years my senior, is currently going through what I think is a uber-premature mid-life crises. Yoga, veganism, panic inducing green shakes for breakfast… he has adopted them all in the last year. I feel sorry for him in a way. He will still age. He will still die.
You have to enjoy the ride. Ups, downs… its all a part of living. Being a nut is only a temporary measure in ignoring the horribly obvious truth.
I embrace my age. My hair falling out really doesn’t bother me (too much). My knee, while slightly annoying, is not that big of a deal. I know that someday, I will look like my uncles. I hope that I look like my Uncle Bob. He was always my favorite uncle.
I have a beautiful wife who loves me, and a beautiful wickedly smart little girl whom I adore. With a son on the way.
Life is good. And almost 30 is not looking bad at all. Especially looking at those green shakes my brother-in-law drinks.
My god. No way in hell.
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