If you want a job, you will normally need to do an interview. This can be a daunting process. You need to look and sound the part. You need to sell yourself and you have 20 minutes to do it.
I haven’t worked a proper job in over 2 years. In that time I have forgotten all about how these things work. And by forgotten I mean completely.
Growing old is a permanent thing. There is nothing to do except to prepare for the inevitable onslaught of Mother Nature. The ravaging beast of noxious Time allows none to escape. And yes you can prepare. You can slow it down. You can diet and train and exercise your intellect and body. You can go …
I dream of a day in the future. In this day I will be balder, wrinklier and flabbier. My words will roll into each other and saliva will spill out with each vowel I wispily rasp. I will shake a shaky fist at the dandiest young kids who don’t give a fuck about old gramps. And I will have trouble keeping my guts in my intestines.
There is a hurricane of shame that lives inside me. I think hard and long and smirk at the wasted years. Long nights lingered in lowly oblivion.
The warm smugness of the delinquent muse I once loved, laughs at me now – such an oft told tale which pumps the lungs of many the fallen man.
Oh was I a quirky boyo, quick on my feet, winking and nudging? A scoundrel for the devilment, supping and guzzling, smoking and sniffing, carousing and jigging?
Today is the last day of my traveling for a few months. Tomorrow I fly to San Francisco where I will work hard on www.fivepointfive.org, live poker and of course Sober Paddy. When walking through the local town after breakfast, I was yabbering manically as the caffeine from my double espresso sifted trough my system. Second chances was my topic. Do you get them in life?
I turned thirty six the other day – thirty feicin six! That, for the mathematically challenged, is two times eighteen. Now, a human comes of age at the age of eighteen – one reaches adulthood. So after that milestone has passed, what is the next big one?
Well, I am putting it out there today that the next important year is thirty six. The big 36. Not your 21st, not your 30th, not when you hit the fabulous forties but innocuous, oft overlooked thirty six.