No Longer A Spring Chicken

This is my last week of being 33. I still consider 33 to be young. I will turn 34 soon and it’s not the end of the world. I will consider myself, or anyone else for that matter, to be middle aged only at the age of 50. Besides it’s how you feel inside and treat life and not your actual age that matters. Remember my motto – you are only as old as the girls you feel! And I fully believe in it!

But yeah I’m not getting any younger, no longer a spring chicken. What is a spring chicken anyway? Chickens that only live during Spring? 34 is the age where I expected to be a lot more settled in life than I actually am. I’m not anywhere as close to being there as I thought I’d be.

  • I’m still a bachelor. Still single. No special woman in my lonely as hell life.
  • I have virtually nil savings. This is a scary aspect which I am trying to remedy.
  • I still live with my parents in a small apartment. Another thing which I want to rectify.
  • I’m kinda stuck in a job dealing with clients I cannot stand and dealing with a corporate setup that I neither understand nor want to. It’s high time I made my move from there.

As it usually does around this time of the year, my mind is bombarded with these topics and I’ll deal with them by putting it in words. I tend to get very depressed around this time so please bear with me.

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