It’s extraordinary, how quickly one ages. My appreciation of time itself has been warped lately, but think about it. We’ve decided that “your prime” is your 20s. If you’re fortunate (or bamboozled) enough to go to college, you graduate at, what, 21? A little delayed, time to celebrate? No, time to get a job. I hope you majored in web programming or graphic design, or have the connections to try business or law or film. You have four years to figure it out.
Why? Well, a 25 year old will always be kind of young to me. 26, same thing. 27? Old. What the fuck is that line between 25 and 27? Why are there, like, 18 years between those numbers? When I turned 27, I was like, “What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me?”
My prime was over! I was 21 when I moved to Los Angeles and returned home at 27. Having funneled my entire paycheck into rent year after year, it just feels like I graduated, blinked, and now I’m 29.
You know who’s a lot more fun than me?
Think about how much Bomi’s accomplished in the same time. It’s also extraordinary. She could retire before 30, where I haven’t even started my career. So today, in the hours when it’s my birthday and Bomi’s at the same time, please reflect on what happens when one person works really hard, is very talented, charms everyone around her, and is rewarded, and another person does nothing. Where’s the justice?
30’s gonna be brutal.