Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Well, That was my Twenties.


Curse to the wicked snakes who try to snatch the truth away 
Cursed be the ones who try to take our youth away
  • Jah World, Wu Tang Clan
There were good times, there were bad times, and there were plain weird times. But time, being such a treasured commodity, has ran out for my twenties. I gave it my best shot.

A year ago I wrote the bucket list. It was a little unrealistic.

A month ago I reviewed it.

There has been a feeling hanging over me for most of my life that time is running out and that I should have done so much more with my time and my life. Where was my successful job? Where's the money I don't have? Why can't I get my six pack back?Why won't my mates come out any more? Oh, and why don't I have a girlfriend?

Well, they say wisdom comes with age, so let's address these one at a time.

Where's my successful job?

I don't mention my job much on here as a principle, but I will tell you that I work in the public sector and I have done- for the same organisation- for nearly five years. I've avoided countless rounds of redundancies, I've moved departments six times, there have been very testing times but also a few rewarding ones too. Although I've never received a pay rise and my part-time hours have never increased, I have managed to stay with the same employer by keeping my head down, giving everything my best shot, volunteering for whatever comes up, being flexible and not making a fuss. Although the hours aren't great, I consider it a success to still be there.

Where's the money I don't have?

As I have a memory disability, I don't understand the first thing about tax and the Inland Revenue etc. However, I have met some people who DO know about this sort of thing, at long last. I won't name them either, just in case, but they have been a huge help and due to that, let's just say I can afford not to eat Tesco Value shit any more. Which leads us onto...

Why can't I get my six pack back?


Check that out. That was only a few years ago in a Hunks in Trunks competition in Walkabout. Your metabolism slows right down once you hit 25, and this picture was taken just before I hit that downward slump. I never got that fit again, despite continually working out since then. But I won't dispair. Take a look at the discussion over at Iron Magazine. It seems apparent that it's easier to build muscle in your thirties than in your twenties. So getting that physique back could be easier than it has been over the last few years.

Not only that, but I seemed to have knocked this ridiculous chocolate habit on the head. I used to eat criminal amounts of it at uni, and throughout my twenties. As mentioned, in your late twenties your metabolism doesn't let you burn it off as quick and that- combined with the chocolate I was still eating and the copious amounts of junk food I started wolfing down- contributed to the loss of my six pack when I moved into my flat in Oldham. I've now cut all of that out of my diet.

Furthermore, I believe Fluffy Oakes has yet another workout plan for me. So stay tuned for that.

Why won't my mates come out any more?

This isn't rocket science. I'm 30. My mates aren't far behind. People have kids. People get mortgages, get married and don't feel the need any more. House music, the genre I and most of my mates are into, isn't big like it used to be. We're all growing up. And I am too. So maybe now my socialising should be done during the week, and my weekends spent in the gym...?

Oh, and why don't I have a girlfriend?

I'm going to make a slight confession here. I think writers have a tendency to bear their souls from time to time, and I certainly have done. So I might as well right now. I think of myself as a relationship man. I'm not the shagging about type. I'm not exactly involved in either of those right now, and here's why: I've spent most of my twenties hanging around in bars at the weekends, occasionally pulling random girls on dancefloors without saying a great deal to them, and trying to get relationships out of them- IF I like them enough. Anything less serious than that I couldn't get my head around, until recently. Yet the only decent relationship I've had I got through the internet. After all, who gets relationships with people they meet in bars? It can happen, but it generally doesn't. So, maybe I should tone down the nights out and do more stuff I enjoy- more dance classes, perhaps get back into MMA, and not really think about women so much. It's also dawned on me that this feeling that I should be in a relationship comes froma feeling that something isn't right- something is missing from me as a person. Cue the violins. I've always thought I'd find a woman to fill that gap and complete me.

This is wrong.

You complete yourself. Then you don't think about it. Then women will come. That's the theory, and that's the principle that has taken three twatting decades to figure out.

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