I haven't posted for a while. Been busy, ya know. It's been a month and a half, and my body still isn't really adjusted to this whole "up with the birds at Christ-o-clock in the morning" thing. So I'm up at quarter after fuck, and by the time I get home, I'm a shell of a man, ready for a beer, a hamburger, and maybe watching the first three innings of the Twins game. And then sleep hits me like a mallet to the head, which doesn't really leave me with a lot of time to do stuff like this.
I'm in a new place in my life, both literally and figuratively, and I'm alternating between excited and terrified (which, I suppose, is always how it is with these things). It's taken nine months, but it's starting to feel like I don't live there anymore, which makes me sad and homesick sometimes. In my heart, I don't know if I'm ready for the era of collegiate insanity to be over; I'm afraid that this really is the beginning of the rest of my life. Twenty-three, and scared shitless of growing up, that's me.
I went back to Morris last weekend, for a friend's wedding (yeah, we're marrying age, how's that for making you feel old?). It felt like everyone was really...deferential. Which I'm used to, being a superhero and all, but this felt different somehow. Like I'm becoming a Grand Old Man. Anyway, I did a little blow, smoked some weed, got really drunk, and bagged a sophomore (when you get to my advanced age, you've got to prove it a little more).
This isn't going anywhere. It's quarter to seven in the morning, if you were expecting it to go somewhere, you're damn foolish.
Must be a quarter-life crisis...