Don't You Wanna Hang Out With the Bleach Boys Baby
Possible reasons for crankiness:
1. Have fallen out of exercise routine, am getting chubby. Used to be incapable of putting on weight, now developing gut. Not fair.
2. Am behind on everything. School, writing, new TV, life schedule (see below).
3. Fiction-sale dry spell. OK, 4 months not that long, but seems like forever.
4. The Year 1989. The Berlin Wall, the Czechs and the Poles, Gorbachev, and that guy who stood in front of the tanks outside Tiananmen. Their fault for raising expectations too high.
5. Impending 35-year-old-ness. Not old, but definitely middle-aged. And yet. Was supposed to have published first novel by now. Actually, was supposed to have done that at every five-year-interval since 20. Was bummed then, too. And, progress being made. But, never had goals like other people's; be married by XX age, have house by XX, make $X,XXX,XXX before XXth birthday. Really only had one goal; see book in print. Will happen, but not by tomorrow.
6. Incompetent megalomaniacal alcoholic fundamentalist still in charge. WTF?
7. All things considered, would rather be in a cabin in the woods reading Don Quixote, but not for reasons Carlos Fuentes says. Like Carlos Fuentes very much, but makes Quixote sound boring. Quixote not boring. Quixote hilarious and moving and absurd and fascinating and wonderful. Quixote best novel ever written, yes, but no need to blather about how important Quixote is. Make Quixote sound fun as Quixote is and everyone will want to read Quixote. Just saying.
Am off to undisclosed (to me) restaurant and event this evening, to celebrate impending 35-year-old-ness. Should be tonic for crankiness. Will report later. Will bring back pronouns next post.
6 Comments:
No, you're right, I won't care then, and it's not really eating me up inside. It's just bugging me.
I guess I'm thinking of middle-aged as a range. 35-ish to 60-ish, maybe? I hadn't thought it out that completely.
Of course, I plan to live forever, and these labels are for mortals. Puny mortals.
Thanks for the birthday wishes :-)
I didn't get serious about my writing until I turned thirty, so the almost three years since have been chaotic and unrewarding. So, that would be 12 telling self was writer, about 3 years trying to be writer.
And don't call 35 middle-aged. My wife is 35. If I were to call her middle-aged, I think I might not be able to walk for a week. Maybe more. Depends on my reflexes, I suppose.
To me middle-aged is not such a big deal. Neither is aging--it's just the self-assessment thing that's on my mind, and not being where I'd like to be in that respect. But OK, I'll put off middle-aged until I'm 45 or something. Just to humor the PUNY MORTALS!
Ahem.
Look the Bridget Jones act is mine dammit, so step off. hehe, just kidding. I won't try to convince you against any of your complaints, as I do this sort of thing about every six months to a year. But for the record, you've got about five more years before you hit the getting to middle age mark, and it's just at the beginning then, the forties. So, you know, at least give yourself those five years, and then when you turn forty, maybe give yourself five more! And books...hmmm...yeah it's a hard thing to wait for, but it'll happen I'm sure. Keep the hope! And happy birthday!
I confirm that 40 is the start of middle age. 30's are happy time b/w quarter-life-crisis and mid-life-crisis. Honey bun, you have time for a book. You should look at how many stories you've sold. It's damn impressive, and it's only gonna get better.
PS is your birthday TODAY? b/c the 21st is my brother's (21st, today) birthday, and if your birthday was the 21st, that would be CRAZY.
Y'all are making me feel rather sheepish for my griping. Thanks :-)
I had a great night. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.
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