Thursday, 27 August 2015
Story #2 - Pep talk
Have you noticed how the world constantly wants to look younger? How you have to start everything from when you're five months old?
When you turn thirty, like I did a few weeks ago, I find that people in their twenties call me an old man. Which is strange
I'm in the decade where that kind of fun dies down, but a whole different, more serious, kind of fun arises. Where if I don't want to go out drinking because I'm working on a project, I won't be called a pussy, or, you know, I won't have my friends come at me with bottles of alcohol and tempt me. They've aged, as well.
I've found myself too eager before and somewhat choked when an opportunity arose. I blew most of it. I would say all of it, yet there was something there. A little spark, perhaps. That kept me going, I guess. That, and my dream.
People dreamed that they would be sports players, musicians, astronauts, actors, athletes, you know, all that stuff that you see on TV and go "Wow".
My choice was something less glamorous. A chemistry teacher. I find the anxiety levels of this quite huge, but then I go to my class, the third grade, and all that vanishes. Why is it so different when I have to do a presentation in front of esteemed chemists?
Look at me, I'm choking again. I have to deliver that in five minutes and my hands are shaking. I just can't contain myself.
If I go on stage and everything goes smoothly, I'll go get drunk with my friends, if not, then I'll get drunk the next time it goes well, whenever that may be.
I have to arrange my bow-tie, wipe my face, and smile.
Oh, boy. Hands, stop it. Once I get out of this toilet, I will kick ass. I will be the man. I will be the man. The one that smiles.