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OK, I just turned 30 last September 13. Not yet a DOM material but doomsday is indeed knocking on my door. Pressure, pressure. When I first saw Jonathan Larson’s “Tick, Tick Boom”, I knew then that someday I will be facing the same agony. The central character is having a face-off with midlife crisis: you should have this and that by this age.
I think the world is saying that by being 30, it means having a car (not necessarily brand new) that brings you to and from the office and Pier One. It could also mean that you already have a steady (that was soooooo 80’s) with you, enjoying a movie date or two at least three times a week. Being 30 is having that young dad look. The “kakasalin” type. A loud reminder that somebody is going to say something like “uy, may ipapakilala ako sa ‘yo”.
I am in the middle of all these and what do I get? A malfunctioning washing machine! Look, my new apartment is almost perfect: a DSL, a carpeted living area, a loft style bedroom, a roof window (life is fucking good everytime I wake up and before calling it a night on a starry evening) and an owner that changes the bedsheet every Monday. I think it has something to do with the spinner (I just invented the term). I always end up with a soapy wet garbs. Machine wash is now epilogued with a hand wash.
But I can’t complain. Life has been good to me. I have been to this place and I have done this and that. I still adore movies. No need for a film addiction viagra yet. I still have it. And will have it until I reach doomsday.
Life is indeed about complaining and living to the fullest.