OK, I said I would write a follow-up to my previous bitch fit about growing old, and here it is. I haven't had much time to think about the added responsibilities of growing up over this weekend, and I'm glad for it. In some way, this weekend was my final summer vacation of sorts, my last real chance to be juvenile and drop everything and laugh at dick jokes and shirk my responsibilities to go hang out with people I don't hate. Of course, I'm going to try to make more of these occasions, but I fell as though this will be my last real gimme.

You know, back in late July or early August I couldn't wait for this and the increased amount of stuff I could do - rent a Zipcar, go to clubs, buy a pack of smokes (I don't actually smoke, I just wanted to do something I couldn't before) - but now when I look back that seems a bit juvenile. Early effects of growing older and wiser, maybe? Ha, don't make me laugh. I'm probably just depressed that I'm going to die sooner now. Here's how I think I feel subconsciously: