I'm not getting any younger. Though I obviously don't know what it really feels like to be older than 24, there are days I feel like I'm in my late 30s. Today is one of these days.

We celebrated interrobang's birthday last night, a low-key affair at the under-new-ownership Plaza. I was tired when I got there, drank too much beer, stayed up too late, and am now even more exhausted today. Still, I had an excellent time.

I've been thinking about what happens. My girlfriend will be gone next week - in Florida - and it's up to me what I do in her absence. At lunch today, I quipped that I'll either get my shit together or fall completely to shit; probably the latter. I jest in complete seriousness.

Inertia destroys me. I want to live a different kind of life than I do now, but where does the change come from? How do I implement it?

I am eternally staked out in the sun between the plan and the action, and when I reach to undo my bonds to one, I am held back by the other. What a sorry mess I am.

No, I have more going for me than you might think. I am not saddled with bitterness as I once was. Certainly, sorrow has filled that space, but I bear sorrow a little better. And I will not always be sad. I have my days of sunshine.

I feel woefully underskilled for the undertakings I seek. There is only one remedy, and I must not shy away.