Dweam Wivvin A Dweam

I find it disconcerting in a way that I have been filling the role of husband/homeowner/employee so well.  It seems like when you’re younger you are filled with dreams of destiny and greater things, and would not in a million years fit into the standard cookie cutter picture of adulthood.  And then you actually GET to the age where you were once like “when I’m X years old, I’m gonna be SO awesome” and find out that things didn’t happen as planned.  Of course, when your dream is to lead a sword-wielding company of knights into battle with the undead while driving a ‘69 Dodge Charger, these dreams may have been impractical from the start.  Still, its a pretty sweet dream.  RRRRRRRRR....(swing)(chop).

Which isn’t to say I don’t LIKE being a husband/homeowner/employee; I’m just grousing in a pre-midlife crisis kind of way.  There are just so many things I wanted to do by this age that I just haven’t even attempted.  I’m going to set myself a goal.  One bucket list item per year.  That shouldn’t be too terribly difficult.  Learn to speak Gaelic or go to Japan or SOMEthing.  As long as I’m working TOWARDS my personal achievements.

I know that in 2 years we’ll be out of debt (except for the mortgage payment, but that’s so low it won’t be a big deal).  THAT is something I’m looking forward to.  It’ll mean another 800+ bucks in our pocket each month.  Maybe for our 7 year anniversary we’ll do that trip to Ireland.  That’d be SWEET.  I’d love to do a train tour of the UK, actually...see some of Scotland, Wales, and more of England.

On another note, I haven’t been COMPLETELY boring and hum-drum the past few months/years.  The other day I went out and bought a handgun-style BB gun to shoot vultures with.  They keep landing on my roof and chimney, which can’t be good for either, so I grab my gun and go bust a cap.  It doesn’t really have the power to hurt them at all...just enough to scare them off.  Cause killing them is apparently illegal.  But if you can picture it, here’s this crazy 36-year-old with cracking joints and wild sticking up hair sneaking out of his house in a bathrobe and Batman boxer shorts at 6 a.m. armed with a BB handgun, shooting at giant birds on his roof while trying to avoid stepping in dog poops.  I’m hilarious, I really am.