I Talk to Cats

Conventional wisdom and the easy way out, would be to write a column about New Years.  I could reflect on the past year, or write about the changes I'm making next year.  I hate conventional wisdom, because it's fucking conventional.  I despise conventional anything.  2014 was the best year of my freaking life, in case you were wondering. I also don't plan on making any resolutions for next year.  Approaching the New Year, my plan is the same as always; be more me, be authentic, have fun. 

I'm at that age in a man's life, where a man starts to think about getting old.  There are signs of aging, present in my everyday life.  Just today, my life partner ordered a juicing apparatus.  I'm sadly a little excited about this purchase.  (One click Amazon purchasing is the devil by the way.)  I had oatmeal for breakfast.  I talked to the benefits people at work about my life insurance and about increasing my withholding for my retirement account.  I was in my pajamas at 8:00 PM.  I'm already wondering if I can stay awake until midnight tomorrow.  All of these things scream that I'm not a youngin' anymore. 

We have all heard people say "If I knew I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself."  In my case, this is an immensely accurate statement.  My Mother cried when she called to wish me a happy 30th birthday a few years back.  She cried because she didn't think I would live to see 30.  I understood her sentiments. 

Once I reached the age of 30, I figured that I might like to keep sucking air for another 30 years.  I lost 110 pounds.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I have belonged to a health and fitness club for the last five years and have worked out semi-regularly (there have been a few months long breaks in that time) since.  I started to pay attention to what I was putting into my body.  I still eat funfetti cake (when my life partner is willing to share the cake that I bake for her) but I try to not eat the whole fucking cake, by myself, in two days.  We (the life partner) and I, often go for walks in the park.  I look forward to these walks.  She and I plan our coming days around our workout schedules.  I sometimes find myself wondering if I'm consuming enough fiber. 

Yesterday, my 18 year old step-son asked me what my plans were for the evening.  I told him I planned to work on my novel and read.  He commented that my life didn't sound very exciting.  When I was 18, I wouldn't have found my life that exciting either.  An evening spent working on my writing, reading a book, is a great evening these days.  I get to spend a lot of evenings this way. 

The frosting on the cake (homemade frosting on the funfetti cake that I baked this week, in case you were wondering) is that I frequently catch myself talking to our cats.  I'm hoping this is more a sign of maturity and not a sign of senility. 

I'm not going to apologize for my un-exciting evenings.  I almost died a few times to get to this point in life.  If I don't become a famous writer and make a butt-load of money, Merril-Lynch says I can retire comfortably at 63 years of age.  I wonder if they factored in that my life partner has access to one click buying on Amazon? 

Happy New Year's.