tick tick tick

In one hour and nine minutes I will be 39 years old. How does such a
thing happen? I’m a year away from 40 and a long way from liking it. I
remember when Bob Seger’s “Like a Rock” was about some guy getting old.
Now that guy is me.

Birthdays are always depressing. It makes me stop and think about where
I wanted to go with my life and how far I still am from some of those
goals. People should die of old age without thinking, “I always wanted
to …”

It was 20 years ago this year when I decided I really wanted to write
for a living. It was also 20 years ago this year that I got married.
Fifteen years ago I was still working at the machine shop in Enid and
holding out hope that we’d someday actually move to the Oregon coast.
Ten years ago I was a freshman in college (yes, I started late). Five
years ago I didn’t realize how good I had it working in the HR office
of Conoco. Two years ago we were closing on the house I’m sitting in
right now (a week later it was kissed by a tornado). Last year I was
pulling my hair out over events at work. Ha! There’s one thing that
hasn’t changed in a year — Still pulling, just for different reasons.

Tick, tick, tick. Less than an hour now.

Kim went to a bar after work this evening to watch   perform in a poetry slam. Her sister and the guy she’s shacked up with at the moment came down from Enid to see it, too.

Damn Mozilla Firefox. It just doesn’t work well with LiveJournal. But,
I’ve had less crap getting through since switching from IE.

Well, I need to go read over my lectures for this weekend. I have no
idea what to expect from the OWFI crowd. Will anyone even bother to
come to the room where I’m talking?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

0 responses to “tick tick tick”

  1. Don’t sweat it Steve. I’m in my late-forties. The decade marks can hit like a wrecking ball, but there’s benefits too. I find, in my mid-forties, my life’s just beginning. You tell better stories, and have all that more to write about. The old meat locker’s jammed full of good crap you can drag out and throw onto paper.

  2. Happy Birthday, man. Celebrate the goals you’ve reached. You’re a writer, and even without the success you’ve done some things most people will never do.

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