As I get older and stare down the barrel of my 40th birthday in a few
months, I can feel my mind and body leveling up in the maturity stakes. For
the mind it’s awesome, more maturity means more wisdom, more focus, more
impatience and intolerance for time wasting bullshit and less concerns
about people and what they think or don’t think of me… It’s all happening
right now in the decrepit city of my skull.

For the body though, I can feel the metabolism grinding to what feels like
a snail’s pace, the joints clicking more, evening fatigue setting in
earlier and my figurative “spirit” becoming a grumpy, uncooperative,
cynical bastard…like my mind has been for ages now.

If my body and my mind think I’m going gently into my 40’s, they’re sorely
mistaken. I’m getting that fat guy in the mirror into a gym and I’m
doubling down on my natural crazy that has been both my curse and my gift.
I’m taking walks in the rain, having more deep, meaningful chats, I’m
making more people laugh, more people think… I’m gonna be stepping on
more toes, building more friendships, laughing till I cry, crying at the
smallest hurt… I’m doing more of the worm at parties, I’m drinking less,
hugging strangers more and taking my rabble rousing up a few notches. I’m
giving less fucks, using the word “fuck” more and I’m freeing myself of the
bondage of public opinion.

I’m doing all of this… As soon as my 3rd alarm goes off and I have to
drag myself out of this bed… For now, let me WINZIP the time and try
squeeze in a few more ZZZzzzz…