So Die, Already...

Tomorrow's my 29th birthday and today I was asked if I was worried or freaked about turning 30 or getting near it.

Not at all. I could turn 30, 40, 50, 120, whatever. I've done most of what I wanted to do. I feel I've gotten more out of life than probably 90% of the rest of the planet. How can you complain about that? I've achieved all of my goals, everything else from here on in is pretty much icing. I'm writing a book and I would like to get it published so, yes, it is a goal but if I don't get it published, I won't feel like a failure. I wanted to get my degree, then I felt I wasn't finished so I got my Master's. Then I wanted to be in an improv troupe, I did that. I wanted to find love, I did that. Kids or no kids, doesn't bother me. Book or no book, whatever.

I do feel guilty that I'm not dedicating the rest of my life to help other people less fortunate than me. I still want things. Mostly just a big TV. Can't really explain it. I am willing to spend three grand on a TV. How dumb is that? I can't justify it to myself but I know that I'll do it. I want to do some charity work, but do I do it? Nope. Not an ounce.

I've lived for myself long enough. I need to find it in myself to live for others now. Then I will consider myself an adult. Sadly, I'm not there yet.