French fries with ranch dressing. Why? Because I turned 35 today and french fries are good.
I’m not sure what 35 brings a person other than closer to 40. Lately, I have felt as though my life is flashing before my eyes in slow motion. I know, that sounds absurd—like I’m trying to write something deep and it comes off as sophomoric and trite. I’m sorry about that.
Let me at least try and explain.
The Flashing Part: It’s 20 years down the road and I’m looking back and wondering why I didn’t do this, try that, take risks, avoid cowardice.
The Slow Motion Part: I realize this is happening right now and I’m not doing anything change it.
It’s like someone took the next 20 or so years of my life, recorded them and then showed them to me all at once on slow motion, like a scene from a movie, where the sound and faces of its actors are distorted. It’s like that, only it covers a lot of time—precious time—and I’m watching it before it happens knowing it does.
Does that make any sense at all?
I don’t know. This post wasn’t meant to sound depressing, I am eating french fries after all and things are going quite well. It’s just that I’ve been doing so much thinking lately (mostly selfishly) and I just can’t figure out what to do now to make later seem fuller. And so this cripples me and I do nothing.
Maybe that’s what 35 does for a person: opens the door for a second and shows you your future midlife crisis.
Pause, just for a second. Please?
UPDATED TO ADD: OH MY GOD I AM SO ANNOYED WITH THIS POST.
It’s taking every bit of self control I have to not delete it. I am in a good mood today! What’s not to be in a good mood about? Where did this post come from? I have no idea.
I would delete it, but that would mean deleting some of the comments, which are really great. Sorry, folks.