On the Downhill Slide

I'm getting old. And fat. Day by day.

This morning I found hair in and around my sink. My six pack has transformed into two cans on top of a party ball. Weighing 200 pounds isn't as "cool" as I thought it once would be. The dark rings under my eyes are beginning to have rings of their own. Years of swinting have created premature and permanent crows-feet. There are now lines in my forehead. The kid that could once pull an all nighter is now voluntarily going to bed at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. That's of course preceded by a mid afternoon nap. Every morning I experience breath-taking back pain, an obvious sign of aging. My feet and my knees hurt. I think more about paying bills and work than I do about junk food and girls. Instead of wondering if a woman has a boyfriend I wonder if she's engaged, married, divorced, divorced with kid(s), or married with kids and looking for some action on the side. Amazingly I tend to attract the divorcee "with baggage." "Will you be my baby-daddy?" No. The first thing I used to notice were a girl's eyes. Now it's whether or not she's wearing a fat ring on her left hand or pushing a stroller. Add insult to injury my mom wants grandkids. I tell her I plan to have kids someday.. then maybe I get married (wink wink). No, things could be worse. Luckily I don't think too much about this kind of stuff.