On this the eve of the beginning of my third decade if life I'm finding it hard to move on. This is my last day I can claim I was "just being young" and people can't call me "just a kid"
I've spent all day being very self depicting to myself in my own head. The words that have been common are yeah. You really are kind of a fat piece of shit stuck in a lower management job in a factory in the middle of bfe Michigan.
I know that I've married an amazing woman who deals with all of my tendencies and shortcomings in stride and a beautiful baby boy who hasn't learned yet the troubles if myself let alone the world and I'm truly concerned for him and the future.
But I just can't seem to feel like I've accomplished anything. I dropped out of college, hardly passed high school, I'm the lowest producing shift in my department. I'm not good at much, I get it.
The thing is though, I'm pretty happy.
It's taken me thirty years to get here, to figure it out. I have an amazing family, my friends are better than yours, I have goals and I'm working towards them. It's just the fine tuning that I need to figure out. And as I type this I realize maybe that's what my thirties are for. That's what the next ten years is supposed to be about. Fine tune your shit. Get off your ass, get shit done, and stop making excuses.
That being said I'm aiming to lose 30 pounds and I'm entering my first mountain bike race, and I'm heading back to Riot Fest. And also making my way up to Mackinac Island for the first time.
30 is gonna be good times. How about you by a part of it.
So here's to all you good rats! Salut!
