Another spring, another foot in the grave.
sigh
I am getting old.
No doubt about it. Age is just a number you say? Nope, age has everything to do with it. I find myself behaving like an old fool, playing safe, taking less risks.
Case in hand: I used to play the infamous Playstation Action Adventure game Resident Evil, and I played all 3 sequels. I am talking about blowing off the heads of zombies and night creatures alike, alone, at 3am, with guns ablazing, heart thumping, sweaty palms and all. Now, I can’t even last 3 minutes on Kuon or Fatal Frame (to the uninitiated, think :”The Ring” but in real-time term). The thought ot being face-to-face with the undead sends chills up my spine.
It also takes a little longer to get ready for work each day, having to hide the hateful fine lines around the eye area.
At meals, I do a mental calculation of my cholesterol and calorie intake. I do salads for lunch at least twice a week. I cheat sometimes, but not without fretting and frowning about it, which aggravates more wrinkles. *sigh*
My version of a wild night is having decaf coffee at 6 in the evening.
I maker it a point to gym at least 3x a week, sweating profusely and not stopping until I feel the painful pull of my muscles, like today.
I only check in at hotels with clean, private toilets. Failing which, I bring my own Dettol to disinfect the toilet bowl.
With other married colleagues, all we ever talk about is how to get rid of shirt collar stains.
I keep my eyes peeled for warehouse sales every weekend.
...
This is bullshit.
What happened to the gung-ho, risk taker, say it as I see fit daredevil that I was? Will I end up being one of those old folks who talk and talk without getting any point across?
Que sera sera.