Note: I wrote this post in October. I will update it with parenthetical phrases.
We just nailed down our set list for my 40th birthday party. (Which I nearly canceled since my transfemme guitarist is now afraid to travel in Trump’s America. It’s truly a nightmare hellscape. Now we’re using backing tracks. I don’t feel like celebrating.) That’s a sentence that is weird in so many ways. I’ve always wanted to play music regularly. Always dreamed of having a musician as a partner, and a hot one at that. Bonus. And turning 40 continues to be a fucking trip. Like how weird am I supposed to feel about this? How much am I supposed to be counting down the days?
And how different would things be if this weren’t happening post-pandemic? I guess that’s the question surrounding a lot of things. It does take some of the pressure off of feeling like I need to be at a certain point in my career by now, making a certain amount of money. Surviving something like that does lift the veil and reveal how unreal all of this shit is. Money. Status. Bullshit.
Yes, having to work 2 full-time jobs in order to not scramble financially fucking sucks. (Not anymore. I got fired from the second job for not catching on fast enough in a single month yayyyyy bye money.) But that’s more a reflection of our society than any path I could have chosen. There are some things about hustling that feel good. Like knowing my kids know I work my ass off to provide for them. Being busy because my bored mind is dangerous. (Still true. I’m not busy right now. I’m not the okayest.) As much as I reject how much we revere being busy, fuck I need it and go to dark places without it. (Here I am, reporting live from Dark Places.)
Maybe that’s the weirdest thing about turning 40—being old enough to know that we spend most of our time killing time and the rest of our time making memories because that may be the only thing we take with us when we die. All of this amounts to whether or not you can smile on your deathbed. Will I smile on mine? Better stay busy so I don’t have to think about that one.
Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.