I’m gonna be 23 in a couple weeks. I’m not saying this to remind you; I’m saying it to remind me. I keep thinking I am already 23, or older. Not that I feel older — on an average day I feel 12; on a perfect day, I feel six. And it’s not that I’m excited to be 23; it’s more like I don’t care. I saw a birthday card once that said “You’re 23! Welcome to the first worthless birthday of your life!” That about sums it up. Anyway, I’m trying not to focus on the worthlessness of the event, or that it’s a Monday, or even that I have no friends nearby. I’m trying to build some inner excitement. Obviously, I’m doing a hell of a job.