WAG - Oh yeah, my birthday’s coming up
I’ve been so busy, I barely realized
Last I remember it seemed to be about a month away. When one day feels like another over the summer (except for Sundays which feel like, surprisingly enough, Sundays), it can be hard to tell time is passing.
Since the concept of summer school involves cramming more things into a limited amount of time than what is usual, the rapid approach, appearance, and subsequent disappearance of items on the calendar can end up blending together.
Here is a sampling of some inner monologues my fast forwarded brain has had:
“Oh. I just took my criminology midterm. Didn’t I just start the class?”
“Election coverage is behind? What do you mean we vote in two weeks?”
“I promised I wouldn’t start doing student staff stuff until July to give myself a break. What do you mean, ‘Break’s over?’”
All this has lead up to me almost missing my own birthday. In the past I'd have the days leading up to the chocolate cake counted up months in advance. Of course, that's when I was still in the phase of using fractions when giving my name "I'm 8 and a HALF!" I would boast because I'd want credit for that extra six months I'd been around (because on the playground, dominance was sometimes determined by a few mere months). I don’t quite recall when I stopped counting the extra months, but without that reminder (I’m 21 and three-quarters) it can be easier to forget where you are.
A phone call put me straight, however. My mother reminded me of it last Thursday night. She wanted to make sure she had my address down for any letters or cards that would be sent my way.
In the same conversation, I learned my mail has been forwarded to Sullivan despite the fact I still am on the MU campus and have given the mailroom attendants multiple reminders to this fact. These prompts are occurring about once a month (following an approximate two week period where I receive no mail). I dropped off another note Thursday night, but I wonder how many cards may end up going on a longer trip than necessary to reach me.
An exception is the first birthday present I received Sunday night. Jessie bought be a new watch (since the band on the last one seemed to be permanently out of commission [thanks to the Wal-Mart employee who jerry-rigged my band the last time and postponed the inevitable for about a month]).
It was just what I needed (other than a dehydrator, skillet, and a dozen eggs – but that’s another project) and it reminded me I’m about to be 22.
As was pointed out by a friend who recently turned the big 2-2, not much happens at 22 other than your age is now divisible by 11, a prime number.
As far as birthdays to be looking forward to, there’s 25 (when the car insurance rates for males begin to go down) and 55 (when you can enjoy the senior citizen discount, though I'm sure it will be higher by the time I get there). It was noted by another friend (alas, one with no webpage), one can also count on a midlife crisis occurring around 35 – but that date fluctuates and it is debatable whether or not that is something to be looking forward to (largely depending on whether you can afford the luxury sports car without otherwise damaging your financial situation when you reach that age [I think I’ll be eyeballing a Hot Wheels car when that time comes, but I could be wrong]).
So I’m almost 22. Whee… I don’t have much to look forward to because I don’t really have anything planned other than working at the paper and maybe showing up to criminology.
As I’ve long stated, I’m a pretty easygoing guy who doesn’t need much to be happy. We’ll see what happens.
'the_countdown_began_without_me'
