Television Shows Should Be 9 Minutes Long.


So Sleepy.  So Old.I don’t mean to brag, but there was a time when I could watch 17 straight hours of television and never leave the couch (not to eat or… well you know).

During my youth, I could easily watch 3 movies back to back to back and not even blink.

Now?

Now I can’t look at a TV screen without being overcome with the feeling that I’ve just ingested a 72 oz glass of anesthesia (which would be smaller than the mega gigantic sodas they sell kids at convenience stores… can we make these illegal already?).

There’s something about life after the age of 40 (if you can call it a life). People warned me unexplainable aches and pains would show up when I reached this advanced age.

They were right.

What they didn’t tell me was that I would doze off after watching half a commercial.

People ask me what my favorite show is and I tell them I have no idea. I haven’t seen an entire television program in at least a decade (is Happy Days still on?).

My life can be broken down into two distinct eras. The years of my youth when I was alert and focused and on top of my game.

I call those The Golden Years (I just made that up).

And now my life is a pathetic existence where I spend my days just waiting for an opportunity to rest my eyes for only a quick second.

I’m not going to lie, I don’t like where this is headed (life never seems to end well).

I’m turning into an old person who eats dinner at 3:30 in the afternoon so they can be in bed by 6.

Of course this means I will be awake at 2 o’clock in the morning so I can sit at the kitchen table and wait for the newspaper to arrive.

The newspaper that no longer exists.

Sad.

Not about the newspapers.

Me.

During the course of writing(?) this blog, I took two naps. Seriously.

Even sadder, school will start soon and the kids in each grade will be the exact same age they were last year. Me on the other hand

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It’s Time for a Midlife Crisis. I Just Wish I Had Time.


Scissors.Life moves pretty fast (so says Ferris Bueller). If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

In my life this couldn’t be truer. My best estimates tell me, if all goes well, I am halfway through my lifetime.

That would make me 82 when it all comes crashing to a close.

This becomes more and more apparent as my evil spawn of a daughter continues to age at an alarmingly fast rate.

She is now 8 which is amazing considering we just brought her home from the hospital last week (at least it seems like last week).

I wouldn’t think about my age nearly as much if she didn’t point it out in a variety of ways.

She say things like “You’re old.” And “You”re really old.” And the ever popular “Don”t hurt yourself old man.”

She said the last one when I was doing the very strenuous task of picking a golf ball out of a puddle.

Does she think I am made of glass?

For her information, I having been hitting golf balls into the water for over 35 years with a spotless record of never injuring myself.

Sometimes her comments are more subtle.

Yesterday I got my driver’s license renewed. She pointed out that in 8 years she will be getting her license.

How is this possible?

How will she be old enough to drive? How will I be old enough to have an evil spawn that is old enough to drive?

One day I am a sophomore in high school with no clue, and the next I am 41 years old (still in school) with no clue.

It’s just not right that I will have a daughter who is old enough to drive (I am frightened for everyone who travels by car, truck, or walks on a sidewalk within 100 feet of a street).

Maybe she is right. Maybe I am old.

I have noticed that in the last 5 years, I attend far more funerals than I do weddings.

It is also apparent that my memory can at times be… what’s the word I am looking for… oh yeah… sketchy. My memory isn’t what I remember it being 10 years ago (I think, but who knows… because I can’t remember).

How many times do I have to go the store and stand in the middle of an aisle for 3 minutes because I can’t remember why I am there? When will I realize that I am incapable of leaving the house without a list?

This doesn’t bother me too much, because I realize a slight memory loss is the price of aging (and getting older sure beats the alternative).

What does worry me is what happened yesterday.

I was picking up the house so I could sit down and write a blog.

My last task was to clean off the kitchen counter.

No problem. Or so I thought.

Until a couple of hours later when I found the scissors I had put away… in the refrigerator.

The spawn may be smarter than I think. I am old. Maybe I will break a hip bending over to pick up a golf ball.

Which leads me to my newest problem.

I am the perfect age to have a midlife crisis. Except, I don’t have time because I am too busy.

I’m not exactly sure why. If I remember correctly (and since it’s not on a list, who knows), I used to have loads of free time.

Weekends were spent watching hours and hours of TV. I could complete all of my yard work in 2 hours. Now it takes 2 days and I’m still not finished.

Something has changed.

Where does my time go?

I spend a lot of time at work, but no more than normal. I also spend a lot of time playing with my evil spawn (even though one day she will no doubt put me in a nursing home), but not anymore than other parents.

And I spend time exercising.

That’s it.

That’s the one thing I do more of now, than I did 5 years ago. I exercise.

I exercise so I am healthy. Because if I am healthy, I can do more.

Except I am so tired from exercise that I actually do less.

Is this the official sign of being old?

Or is it when you put scissors in the wrong place? Or is it when you are a regular at funerals?

Who knows?

To tell you the truth, I don’t even have time to worry about getting old because I lost my wallet (with my brand new license).

There are good things about getting older. One, you get wiser.

That’s why the first place I am going to look for my wallet is the refrigerator.

And if I find it, I am going to the store because I need to get… something (it will come to me… sooner or later).

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While this site operates with the knowledge and awareness of the Tuscola CUSD #301 School Board, Tuscola, Illinois, the content and opinions posted here may or may not represent their views personally or collectively, nor does it attempt to represent the official viewpoint of Tuscola CUSD #301 administrators or employees.