1.7.03

Thirty years and a day. That's how old this human being is now. Thirty years. It doesn't feel much different than 26 and probably won't feel any different when I'm 35 or even 40. I'm sure my knees might pop a little more, and I might get acid reflux easier, but to be honest, I don't feel 30. Call it immaturity, call it denial, but I actually still have a 22 year old mind set. I still feel like this weekend I'll be going out and getting wasted and staying up all night and the next day play video games and go see a movie. I still watch cartoons. I read comics. I suppose it's "young at heart." It's hard to say.

One thing that came up in coversation was that it's not so much the age that bothers me, it's what it represents. I don't feel like I only have a certain amount of years left, I feel that the years that I've had so far have been wasted. I'm not regreting any decisions mind you, but I would have liked to have done more. Looking back through eyes that have seen 30 years of my antics, there is a great lack of accomplishment. Mrs. Austin asked last night what the biggest accomplishments I've had in my life. I had to think about it and it was kinda sad to see that my biggest accomplishments didn't happen until I was almost 30 anyway. Married, 25. Baby, 27. House, 28. Making my own comic, 30. So out of 30 years, 5 have been production.

I could go farther back and say, well I TOOK 6 years of college. I didn't graduate and yes the time was mainly spent drinking and sleeping late, so I've got nothing but some fond memories there. High school wasn't much better, instead of focusing on business, or a skill that would benefit me later in life, I chose to flounder between art, music and theater. And even then I didn't pick one to put all my energy into. I'm only now realizing that I need to stick with art. I need to ditch all thoughts of doing anything but what I like to do best and just do it. I need to abandon my drum set, my hockey skates, and any other distractions that weigh me down like so many chains on Jacob Marley. 30 is the age that snaps you around and says, "Ok, you've farted around for long enough. You didn't go find yourself in Africa or Europe, and you're too old to be starting a garage band. It's time you started on your path and stick with it. Even if your path is plumbing, do it and do it well. No more excuses."

I hope I can listen well enough.

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