It seems that I have a problem, (well, several dozen problems to be exact, but I’m trying to keep this simple) yet I’m not too sure what the problem is. Allow me to elucidate.
I’m 26 now. Yeah, I know, it’s quite the tragedy. I’m at the age where I can no longer just sit around in my boxers at nine in the morning and watch cartoons while drinking heavily and engaging in the consumption of various narcotics. And when I say that I can no longer do these things, it’s not because of any physical aliment, (cause I still do that stuff anyway!) but because at 26 society no longer looks upon such behavior with bemused boys-will-be-boys, kids-will-do-the-darnest-things look on its face. See, in college you can do that kind of stuff, in fact it’s pretty much required, but when you’re 26 it’s not so groovy.
I’m at the age where I should be trying to find a career. Not a job to pass the time until something better comes along, and not just something to pay the bills, but the thing that I decided I want to do when I was a little kid in elementary school and they forced us to decide at such a young and tender age the course our lives would take. Sadly, I don’t see myself becoming a ghost buster. Not that it’s not possible, it’s just that it looks like I won’t get to save the world and get the chick by doing that job. And my super powers haven’t developed yet, which is also a bummer.
I want to be a writer, but I haven’t yet gotten that sign telling me that it’s my destiny. So I’ll just sit around in my boxers, swilling cheap beer and watching the Cartoon Network until I get word that it’s time to fulfill my destiny and reach that potential my parents and teachers were always talking about.
Anyway, that’s not the problem I’m referring to here. I can handle that by not thinking about it, (a useful skill when dealing with problems, it’ll either help, or make things a million times worse. And if that happens I’ve got a few other tricks to help me get through things) so that whole situation is covered by a nice heavy blanket of apathy.
No, my problem lies in the more, how shall I say, “romantic” side of things. See, at this age, not only should I be trying to find a career, but I should be trying to find a women to spend my money (that’s right, I said it!) with (and mostly for) me. But I can’t do it. My heart’s not in it.
Not so for some of my friends. One by one they’re taken, grabbed and hauled into the net of “a committed and serious relationship.” While I sit here alone in my dojo. Having a beer and adding vital layers to my beer gut, (you never know when a famine might decide to rear its ugly head!) In my wise and world-weary eyes I see my friends becoming the testicle-free slaves of various succubae intent on changing my friends and making them decent, law-abiding, functional members of society. And it pains me greatly.
I wallow in the memories of hanging out with my friends and doing things that their current girlfriends would not approve of. I recall times when we could spend the whole night out without anybody having to call to “check in” with somebody. I mean, can a guy go for a day or two and not call his woman without her thinking that he’s either cheating or dead, (they never think that he’s having a good time because as far as women are concerned their men can’t have a good time without them)? Do all my friends need vagina-imposed curfews? I think not. But it’s the bed my friends have made for themselves and they’re prepared to lie in it without thinking about what their decision means for everybody else. For every two happy couples, there’s a best friend somewhere wondering what the hell happened and when he’s going to get to hang out with his boy again.
Which brings me to my problem. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I have two choices.
a) My friends are all busy going forward with their lives, trying to accomplish things and be happy and all I’m doing is holding them back. Or
b) I need to stop living in the past and find my own woman to suck out my soul and render me a barely living man, just like my friends.
So I pose it to you guys, the readers. I’ve got readers from every decade, from the teens to the sixties. Somebody out there must have had to deal with the same shit at some point. What were the results? What should I do? So I try to rescue my friends? Or should I follow the old adverb of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!”?
And in the meantime, can anybody recommend some good cartoons at nine a.m.? I feel like I’m scrapping the bottom of the barrel!