Soon-to-be Pensioner....

So... this weekend I had an amazingly difficult realization.

I am old.

Officially.

This is what I sound like singing. 

I went up to Nagano City for Prefectural Orientation, and had a nice time afterwards at our welcome party.  Feeling a little ill after a bout with soy, I rationalized turning down the invitation to karaoke and beer as simply a smart decision to help me with recovery.

Instead, I headed out with a group of "neighbors" and a few people from down south in search of dessert in the pouring rain. After meeting an extremely rude Japanese lady at Seiyu while buying an umbrella --she literally took money out of my hand and criticized me for paying with too large of coins--we finally found a place that was open and had dessert.

I left with two others to check in to the hostel.  Though almost every single toilet was out of order and the room serving as the bathroom had holes in the wall and miscellaneous storage items, I managed a shower and settled onto my bunk.

The two other girls sharing the dorm with me showed up around 1:45 a.m.  The first one I cannot fault, as she was very quiet, kept the lights off, and overall respectful.  The second one, however, made all sorts of noise, shined light around, and spent a good half hour groaning, turning around and texting.

After I finally fell back asleep around 3 a.m., people started waking up and leaving around 4 a.m.  Shouting down the hallways, making all kinds of thunks.  Seriously?  I fell back asleep around 5, and slept for about another hour before the next wave of loud, inconsiderate people thunked their way out of the hostel.

Finally, I called it quits just after 7:30 a.m., stripped my bed and headed out to Starbucks.

 Starbucks is a foreigner mecca.

Now, I am left crabby, nauseous and sore from lack of sleep.  Worst of all, I am upset that I couldn't handle sleeping in a hostel like millions of people do every single year without complaint--in much worse conditions than mine.

And then, through the thick fog of cappucino foam... I realize... I am too old for this shit.

No, I cannot keep up with my twenty-something drinking buddies, because I cannot afford the longer recovery time my aging body now requires.

I cannot get by on three hours of sleep in the middle of a mass of unknown humans making noise at all hours of the night.  My wrinkling, dried up husk of a skin needs its 8 hours of beauty sleep.

I also no longer can live out of a backpack for days at a time, moving from place to place on a whim.  Like a nice strong Depends, my psyche needs the comfort and security of home in case an emergency arises.

Piggy banks, Nagano Style.

Lastly... perhaps most sadly of all... I have become my parents and am too worried about the bills I must pay to arbitrarily spend money on things like late night binge drinking karaoke parties no matter how much fun they may be.   After all, I should probably start saving for retirement soon.

Though those that know me have probably realized all of these things for some time, I appreciate you letting me live my delusion for a few precious moments longer.  But, the first step to recovery is realizing you have a problem... so I will very maturely celebrate my older self by dancing around the apartment singing "I'm 30 and I Know it!"

Watch out karaoke... I'm saving you for my first mid-life crisis.