I am an adult.
I know, I know. I've been an adult ever since I was old enough to vote, buy my own damn cigarettes and go see movies with nudity and four-letter-words ("Ha! That naked guy just said fuck! No bleeping or nuthin'!").
But the early-to-mid-twenties are really just a launchpad into true adulthood. Most of us didn't know shit about what we were doing; we were trying to figure it out by aimlessly wandering through life.
Beer helped. Always.
|Then: Tongues, beer & devil horns|
|Now: ... what, no sneer? No alcohol??! Who AM I?|
A few realizations have smacked me upside the head to let me know that 'fun' has taken a backseat to 'responsibility' somewhere along the way.
For example... about 35% of my friends used to have mohawks. Now - maybe 5%. Where'd the mohawks go, guys?
Then there's work... my mind is rarely not on my business, my clients, my upcoming new website, and my endless to-do list. And I like it. Gone are the days when my main thought was "I hope [enter random name here] can make it to the bar tomorrow night. What the hell am I gonna wear?".
Ye Olde Book of Face (or Facebook, for you young folks) only furthers the knowledge that I'm not college-age and hungover all the time. Every day a different ex-classmate is posting about their new marriage, new baby, new divorce, new house... and everyone younger than me types in this new bullshit internet language that I can't decipher whatsoever. Ah, remember words and sentences?
Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n Roll? Nah. It's now Babies, Ibuprophen and Gordon Lightfoot.
But y'know what? I'm cool with it. Bring it on.
Because no matter how much of a grown-up I am, there will always be beer.
That's the beauty of adulthood.