DG's Journal: On Being 36

Now that it is the day after, I am undeniably 36. During the day itself, it's tough to tell when you have actually crossed the line; not knowing the time of day when I was born, and the time difference from across the country and all. Schrodinger's Birthday: one may be 35, or 36, and one never really knows until the day after.

But now, as stated, it is the day after, and all uncertainty has been removed. J'avais trente-six ans, et il n'est rien a faire.

Halfway through my 30s, with 40 coming up fast, fast, fast. Where does the time go?

Niner Domestic took me out for a good meal, at the new Keg in the ground floor of the new DaimlerChrysler Canada headquarters building. Great view of the Detroit skyline. I had the first martini I've had since... oh, maybe my 21st birthday, and yup, they still taste like paint thinner.

The big suprise yesterday was StalinsNotDead giving me a /. subscription to try and cheer me up. Huge suprise. Random acts of kindness are rare and precious, and it's nice to be on the receiving end. Truly appreciated, and a reaffirmation that the species isn't all bad.

It's funny, when I look back at my life so far... there's a lot there. There's stuff there that seems almost too incredible to be real; stuff that if I told it, nobody would believe me. And there's just as many (if not more) stupid, banal, embarassing mistakes and fuck-ups, lost opportunities, and wasted chances.

Just like everyone else, I suppose.

I wish I could go back in time and get a do-over. I wish I could correct those mistakes, sieze those opportunities, make better choices. Although... even with all this supposed wisdom, I still manage to royally cock things up every once and a while, so maybe nothing would really ever change.

But my 36 year old self has a lot less time to spend than my 26 year old self or my 16 year old self. It is becoming more and more obvious that time is slipping away, and I still haven't accomplished enough yet.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life a wage slave.

I want to do better than I have - not financially; money turns out to be profoundly unimportant in the greater scheme of things.

I want to make a difference.

This is starting to wax rather maudlin; things are not all that bad. I'm married to the greatest woman in the world - my best friend, my buddy. Marrying her was the smartest thing I ever did, and I regret nothing where she is concerned. I'm healthy - a little heavier than I should be, but healthy enough. I'm paid well. I'm not, no matter what this may sound like, feeling *sorry* for myself.

But I'm not making a difference either, and that has to change.

DG
 

Whoa

[TopShelf]

Having turned 36 myself just over a month ago, I hear what you're saying. Kids help somewhat with that feeling - nothing erases the burden of a frustrating work day more than having your offspring light up as you walk through the front door. Seeing them develop and grow (both with your help and without) is better still.

All the same, there is that feeling of wasted potential that gnaws at the back of one's brain. The only way out (as I see it) is to focus on where you are now, and what opportunities lie b

Did it work?

[StalinsNotDead]

try and cheer me up.

Did it work?

a reaffirmation that the species isn't all bad.

I wouldn't go that far. I'm still in favor of a near extinction level event.

But I'm not making a difference either

Butterfly effect. Everything you do makes a difference. It's just whether you are able to percieve the differences.

Re:Did it work?

[DG]

Yeah, it did.

Thanks again.

DG

32

[Tsunayoshi]

Coming up on 32 myself (well, in October anyway).

Not sure if it is psychosomatic but the whole turning 30 thing seems to have killed my body. Of course, the coincidence that I stopped actively exercising about that time might have something to do with it...and now getting back into exercising is turning out to be harder than you would think.