So here and there, in the form of little everyday things that have been sneaking up on me, I can feel myself getting older:
-Mornings after I play basketball, I'm incredibly sore, and at this point, I've pretty much convinced myself that I have some sort of major ligament damage in my right knee, with absolutely zero medical proof whatsoever.
-I am only in my second season in Madden, whereas normally I'd have finished around 5 by now.
-I am not a huge advocate of getting crunk sauced when I have to wake up early the next morning (which isn't to say that I won't do it from time to time, but it is rarely my idea anymore.)
-I am listening to hip-hop much less than I used to. It's still much more than a white kid from North Dakota probably should, but it is less than before.
-Nowadays, when I get off the phone with a client, I say buh-bye (this might be the most disturbing one of them all; this used to be one of my biggest pet peeves as recently as 2 years ago. However, it may just be a case of me subconsciously trying to be professional at work. If I ever use it on one of you when we're ending a conversation, I give you full permission to punch me in the face next time you see me.)
-And now the latest sign: I am not a fan of Halloween anymore. I skipped a party in KC last weekend, and I will not be going out tonight at all. I don't feel like picking out a clever costume; I don't feel like having to tell every other person I run into all night how awesome their costume is; and I don't feel like going to a crowded bar that becomes 30% more crowded because of people who have ridiculously huge costumes that fuck up everybody else's day.
Awesome, yeah, you're a Transformer. Sweet, dude. Now would you get out of the fucking way, you're totally blocking the line to the bathroom.
When I told Bergman that I was sick of Halloween, he made a very good point:
yeah, tons of girls running around all night in slutty costumes. I'm totally sick of that too.
That is the one thing I will miss about going out on Halloween. I love how that holiday somehow morphed into the day where girls are allowed to dress like huge whores and it is totally acceptable, nay-encouraged- and us guys are the beneficiaries. But other than missing out on the eye candy, or going up to a girl and saying "Oh my goodness! What a convincing Catwoman costume! What is that chestplate made out of- can I feel it?" I am totally OK with staying in and watching scary movies tonight. I don't know, maybe I just miss the Culligan Halloween parties, and know that since they can't be topped, I don't want to try. Or maybe I'm just a big pussy.
OK, maybe the real reason I skipped the KC party is I didn't want to deal with Nancy and Tonya's shenanigans all night.