Sunday, 19 August 2007

Life is simple isn’t it?

On Friday I reached my third decade. I’ve been on this earth just a few hours less than the King of rock n roll has been off it. I don’t much go in for the contemplating big life moments but seeing as I have free time and can’t think of anything else to blog about I might as well look back, assess, and once its all done not give it a second thought or learn a damn thing.

Life all happens by chance. Through no choice of your own you are born. No-one thought to ask you if you wanted this. You just come kicking and screaming into the world. The kicking and screaming may end on day one or you may choose to continue it right up until adulthood. In the meantime you learn what the world is all about, you get educated, and you choose subjects and courses that will probably have no bearing on your future. You choose a job that doesn’t pay anywhere near enough compensation considering the idiots you have to work with. You choose yourself a girl and settle down. You choose to fuck like rabbits, or sloths, or something in between, or abstain completely. You choose to buy your first home, which involves choosing a mortgage from the 1000’s available on the market, each more confusing than the last. You settle on a mortgage that rips you off of money that you don’t yet have. You have your wife and your house now you choose the impossibly big television with the even more impossibly big price tag. You choose your 100 channels that you will never ever watch. You choose your 3 piece suite from DFS that doesn’t even get in the front door. You choose your friends, or if you are a soft touch they choose you. You lose a few along the way and find them again on Friends Reunited or Facebook only to remember months later why you stopped talking to them in the first place. You choose to have a family which turn out to be the most selfish inconsiderate brats that man has ever known. You choose to not end it all and grow old. You watch as the devil spawn finally move out and make their own fucked up choices which you pay for with your bank account. Your pension that you chose sometime earlier doesn’t mature like it should have. You have to sell the home that you spent years of endless Sundays doing up just right. You choose to move into a home, only to find the neighbours have problems with incontinence. By now you are even more of an embarrassment to the brats that are continuing your gene pool, so they choose never to visit. You die, but not before you have to choose burial or cremation. Life is simple.

Or at least it should be. I’m up to the choose a girl part. This is where it has become tricky, essentially because I’m a picky bugger. I have no right to be this picky but because its my life and no-one else’s, I am. If the girl doesn’t have the right kind of smile it will probably take something special for me to give her a second look. And if she does have the perfect smile I will on most occasions come over with self doubt and find excuses as to why she wouldn’t be interested. Like she doesn’t laugh at my jokes, it could never work. Or she laughs too hard, it would never work. But if by some miracle she has the perfect smile, eyes that can make a man melt, and I ignore the self doubts and find the courage to take a step into the unknown and she laughs just right 18 months can go past in a flash. In that time I’ll find out she’s as gorgeous a person on the inside as she is on the outside, super intelligent too, can speak seven languages. She gets me, she really does, and as a special bonus she can cook great too, meaning I’ll never starve. You’d think this would be my perfect woman. So would I. Except when it happens. There must be something wrong with her, she has to have bad taste, I mean I look like my father, I barely get by with English and can just about cook pasta or a stir fry. What the hell does she see in me.... Bad habits are hard to break.

And then there is the job thing. I’ve been doing the same thing for 9 years which is for me a long time to do anything. I’m very good at what I do but there lies the problem, The challenge factor is no longer there. I’m restless. I need something new. I just don’t know what. I want to do so many things but probably none of them for the rest of my life,

I’m beginning to see why I don’t do the contemplation thing, its unhealthy to think too much, I’d need therapy. I think I’ll go back to the caring less, laughing more approach I took before. If that fails, I can always take comfort from the fact that the television will be a simple decision as I largely don’t much care for the latest technology.

7 comments:

Just a Girl said...

Well actually ended your third and entered your fourth...

I hear you about the girl, though I am wanting the boy, and it's too easy to pick it all apart isn't it?

Work. Gah.

And to end off...

HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY SCOTSMAN

Drinks all around!

Scotsman said...

Actually that is very true, shows you how little I was really thinking about it.

Thank You.

Off to have a mid-life crisis during the rest of the day.

Just a Girl said...

Drinking all day!

Scotsman said...

Och aye, off to drink gallons of Irn Bru, turn myself orange.

Cat said...

I think I had a similar mid-life crisis when I turned 30 - one of the most depressing birthdays I ever had, especially as people actually believed me when I'd said I wasn't celebrating and not to buy me anything.

Just a Girl said...

At least you won't be blue anymore!

(ooh, she is punny!)

Misssy M said...

You see all that self doubt and not really being where you want to be stuff?

That's what 30th birthdays are for! They're the birthday equivalent of a kick up the arse.

I've never been as happy as I am in my thirties and when I turned 30 (8 years ago since you ask)I shook myself up and changed my job, moved house and Meeester went back to college to retrain. Hard for 2-3 years but well worth it.

Seen it happen a million times to other folk passing the 30 mark.

Happy Birthday, chuck. Be a great thirtysomething!