Tag Archives: early bedtime

365 Days of 30

14 Dec

I’m a day late and a dollar short, but you’re gonna sit down and read this. Why? Because, we’re about to embark on a journey. Not a journey of the average variety. This is a journey of Var from December 8, 2009, to December 8, 2010. A journey of food, eating, sleeping, pooping, drinking, pissing, and an occasional ‘fuck your life’ and ‘kiss my ass.’

You’re about to get a glimpse into the first year of a 30 year old. The do’s and don’ts. While reading this you’ll learn what it’s like not to have as much sex as you like in your thirtieth year. How a new chapter of life was started, new friends made, good-bye said to some, and the others – they need to be strangled.

Oh yes, my friends, this is a journey. One that you’ve pretty much heard the extent of already. One that I’m honestly tired of rambling about.

How do you like my attempt at the dramatic? Don’t judge me. I know it was an #epicfail. Jerks!

No. Seriously, this first year of my thirties has been one of great transformation. I’ve never felt more alive than now. The world is my oyster, and I’m going to take it by storm. This feeling of control is quite exhilarating. With full clarity, I understand that I’m my sole determinant and the only one that can stand in my way.

It is weird feeling like an “adult”–whatever in the hell that’s suppose to mean. But I am starting to react differently to situations and view my life from a slightly awkward angle. I feel the need for grown up things in my apartment. For the abode not to look so much like a bachelor pad or dormitory. I want to do things with my friends that resemble the scenes I witnessed my parents act out when I was a kid. Now I entertain; not just pre-party. Shit, my 31st birthday was a sophisticated(?) birthday with two friends at a nice restaurant and a night cap at a local pub, complete with a fantastic Gin Gimlet.

Did I mention the early bedtimes? Holy titty fucker of Mary Magdalene, I’ve become no stranger to a 9pm nighty-night–sometimes 8:30. Hard to say most nights. Sport, can I get an amen?

Many of you scoundrels are in your thirties already and have your on war stories about year 30. To you, I charge you to share those in the comments. For those that are entering your thirtieth year (or close to it), know that you are about to own this shit.

Okay. Now I’m tired. I have a glass of wine to finish and bed. Scoundrels vs. the wine. You weigh it out and tell which wins. Deuces, bitches!

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