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This past weekend a couple things struck me about myself; 1) I’m becoming less cooler than my childhood self would have imagined; 2) in my state of uncoolness, I find myself too tired to care; and 3) I’ve equated this massive drop into the lower tiers of cool as a part of the growing up process.

Seriously, when I woke up on Saturday I sat in bed and thought about sleep for the next three hours.  Complete silence.  Nothing but sunlight, a dirty room, and quiet, quaint thoughts about being asleep again.

So in my effort to move back up the ranks into a cooler than cool – essentially an ice cold – lifestyle, I began troubleshooting what’s led to my fall from the mountain top of chill.

Thus I set out on my biggest mystery since the story of what happened to Old Zealand; what am I doing that’s making me less cool?

At this point, I go to bed and count the number of hours of sleep I’m going to get.

When I was a child, I envied nothing more of my parents than the fact that they had no bedtime.  They were like gods; masters of the known universe.  Adults could stay up into the wee hours of the night if they wanted, but for some unknown reason – to me as a child – they didn’t.  In fact, sometimes I would ask to sleep in my parents room just because they left the TV on and I could vicariously extend my own bedtime by leeching off of theirs.  But as I slept amongst the adults, I began to notice something strange:

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Even with absolute freedom at their disposal, they chose to have bedtimes.

It would be another decade before I understood.  But the endless reserves of energy that I had in my unbridled youth don’t exist in the adult species.  In fact, adequate reserves of energy don’t exist.  Lately, when I wake up in the morning I sit in bed just thinking about how tired I am.  I’m in energy debt it seems and the only way I make it through the day is with the use of caffeine and rage.

When a baby cries, one can only marvel on how they’ve figured out the world at such a young age.

Less cool factor number 2?  The worry.  And I’m actually person who doesn’t stress very easily.  But as I’ve gotten older, waking up is just like stepping into everything that’s undone.

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In fact, I’m not sure about the history on the creation of stairs but I’ve got this theory that they were invented so that adults could throw themselves down them.  I feel like as you become more sobered by adulting, you’ll get these sickish feelings where you don’t really feel sick and you don’t have a headache, but you just can’t get comfortable  or find something that you’re really into, but you feel to ill to eat or sleep and it’s like your body’s telling you, “I don’t know what I want you to do but this isn’t it.”

There seems to always be some new thing to worry about, which my younger self undoubtedly would have balked “fag” at.

Most people decide to have scrambled eggs immediately after thinking, I’ll just flip this omelette.

You know how many people were excited about the news of McDonalds getting all-day breakfast?  Enough for me to wonder if people know you can make breakfast anytime of the day, yourself.  Enough for it to be national news.  Enough for me to worry about humanity.  Enough for me to conclude that adventure is dead in the world.

Now, I try to lead a pretty exciting life.  Or at least make mediocre experiences look exciting on Facebook.  But it’s so easy these days to make plans with friends, or take the initiative to schedule something adventurous and then regret the commitment immediately and then flake out.  The age of road trips and tree climbing; fanny packs and sleepovers; summer nights and memories are all dead.  Well, that’s exaggerated but there is a certain truth that fun dies as you begin to adult.

I remember when the most screwed up thing you could do to a friend was wait until a game of truth or dare broke out at a sleepover, and then in the first round dare them to go home.

These days, going home early would be a dream come true.

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But I’ve made it a mission to not become boring.  I’m going to reintroduce adventure into my life!  Who’s with me?!  I dare all of you to go into the bathrooms at work and hide from responsibilities!

Take up the banner of cool!  Because what’s cooler than being cool?

Ice cold!

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