magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

So I appear to be on a Thursday-Sunday writing schedule. Yesterday would have just been a complaining entry anyway, and I can't remember anything much about Monday or Tuesday. And, honestly, nothing much special happened today either. Worked late. Went home. Made dinner and watched downloaded British TV.

I've been feeling recently, that I've been living my life in a very part-time manner. I'm sure the feeling has something to do with the fact that I'm almost thirty. (I logged into MySpace a few days ago and my profile already says I am.) I'm not that much more tied up in this milestone than in any other birthday, but I guess that there's enough societal baggage attached to this one that I can't help but think about it some.

For instance: I'm almost thirty and I have no furniture. I sleep on a futon mattress on the floor. That spot also serves as my living room couch, kitchen table, and work desk, at least insofar as the activities that take place there.

Sure time in New York does seem to move faster, it's vaguely inconceivable that I've lived here for a year and a half, but that's not an excuse for not really trying. And it isn't only the apartment. It's life. It's all of it. Life can't be a part-time pursuit.

It's a cliche to look up and realize that you're thirty and not know exactly how you got there. And when it happens again in another ten years, it's so cliche that it's got a name. But, like going back to school every fall and telling myself that 'this year is going to be different' but losing momentum within a month, can I really expect to do anything now that's going to short-circuit that mid-life crisis in the making?