Friday, September 9, 2016

Well, that's that

I don't feel 40.

Granted, I don't know what 40 is supposed to feel like. Right now I hurt from showing off just a bit on a high ropes course. Someone else did the black diamond route, how could I not? Apart from that bit of explainable pain, nothing feels different. I still enjoy the same things that I always have. I behave in the same age obscuring way. I am currently excited for both the PS4Pro and Microsoft's answer just like I have been excited for all of my old consoles, going back to the 2600 that I had in the middle of the great crash.

But there are signs. Little, niggling, annoying signs that my ass, and the rest of me, are getting old.

For one, I purchased a nose and ear hair trimmer at Target a few weeks ago. It is surprisingly difficult to use. No one of a reasonable age grows hair in their ears, right?

I enjoy beer more now than I ever have before but I can drink much less of it at a sitting, which is to say, one if I am driving anywhere. I enjoy videogames just as much now as I ever have, can afford to get what I want when I want, yet I fall asleep on my loveseat long before I have had my fill of whatever I am playing.

It's still me in here, just a little stronger than I used to be, a little more easily fatigued, with a little more ink and a little less patience for stupid shit. And there is so, so much stupid shit.

Were politics always this stupid? Were console debates always this inane? Were fighting games always this hard and everyone else so much better than I am? Either things are getting worse or I am becoming more conscious of how bad everything already was. Both options are depressing. If there was a bar in this tiny hotel I would have a second beer.

And fall asleep.

But I am not depressed or annoyed or happy or sad on my birthday. I am safely on vacation, away from all but one who knows what day it is, and can pretend to still just be me. Today it was me hopping between suspended logs and tomorrow it will be me on a cliff, ignoring my limbs' pleas to knock that shit off already. On Sunday it will be me back in my basement, eaking out an hour of Odin Sphere before the weekend's activities finally do me in.

Yes, it's my birthday today. I am 40. But hush, it's a secret to everybody.