Thirty-Three: Here’s My Annual Birthday Blog Post
I’m turning 33 today. Thirty-three. Kind of have a nice ring to it. Maybe it’s a lucky number? Back in the day, I used to have the number three on my jersey when I played hockey and I remember really liking that number. Therefore I’m hoping that this will be a lucky year.
I often write a blog post when it’s my birthday. On this particular one, I find myself at the social media agency where I work and beside me I have a take-away burger, some fries and a coke. It’s midnight and I’m hammering away at an important Keynote presentation with an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4 playing in the background. I don’t know if that’s just magic or tragic, but here I am, hammering away.
Am I feeling like 33? Probably, yes. For instance, I need to go to bed soon. I can’t work through the night if I want to be mentally present the next day. I must be sure to sit up straight, or else my back will kill me. And I just can’t seem to see the point with going out for beers if the music is too loud for talking.
In my twenties, I was constantly trying to seize each and every opportunity to make a difference. I guess I was worried something amazing would pass me by if I didn’t stay alert. These days, I’m happy with knowing I did my best for the people I care about. Over-achieving for over-achieving’s sake is just so overrated.
But am I just turning into a more boring version of myself? I don’t know. I do know that Buffy is anything but boring. And I’m definitely becoming more and more restless the older I get, which is kind of strange. It should be the other way around, right? A few more years and I won’t be able to sit still for even half an hour.
And for some reason, I’m also becoming slightly more eccentric each year. Maybe that’s because I care less and less about what other people think of me? My last Amazon.com order contained books on how to survive the end of civilisation, the search for Higg’s Boson, nihilism after Nietzsche and advanced grammar for the Nordic languages.
Yes, I’m aware of how that sounds.
It’s ironic how you can find yourself by cutting through all the pretentious clutter, just to find true pretentiousness beneath. I used to think that I was gifted or special, but as it turns out, I’m just another guy in marketing working really hard to help clients push their products. If I had had that revaluation in my twenties, I’d probably been devastated. Today, I’m fine with knowing that I’m doing a good job.
However, I still want to win though. The desire to divide and conquer burns as bright as ever before. But I’m not sure I want to battle it out by putting in more hours than the next guy anymore. No, I want to win by being smarter. By doing less. By being effective. Maybe put all of those hard-learned lessons to work—or maybe just inspire others to win with me.
Maybe. Or maybe I’m just hoping for some crazy good old blind out-of-the-blue luck this year. In either way, I’m ready for 33.
