A bigger molehill

One fateful summer six years ago, the number 30 seemed so large, so far away, yet so possible. As it hit 28, then 29, then 29.50, I held out for 30.00. Nothing fancy. And then it happened. Poor clinical trial results, the stock tanked, taking with it a batch of options which could have (should have, and would have) retired me by the prime age of 25. In retrospect, I should have been looking at the computer monitor that day, rather than a microscope. But such is the tide of life. Back and forth. And then back again.

Ad nauseum instant comes to mind as I sit here to recollect on that time since. Having literally scooped myself off Ji and Joo's bathroom floor, rehydrated, and spent an inordinate amount of time wondering where my lunch and dinner went, it seems rather appropriate. At least this time I walked myself into the apartment and woke up in the right bed (my own). And thus ends a third decade. An eventful one at worse. At best, one in which things happened and life was lived. They say that it's all downhill from here. But there've been mountains and valleys so high and low that I'm simply not convinced it'll all simply head in one direction. Then again, even if this were true, the interpolation would be that this is the top. And like all peaks (even molehills have them) deserve some celebration.

Thus a heartfelt thanks to all those who sent their well wishes, congratulations, or tribulations (a perk of age, I surmise). Your part in carving out the exhilarating landscape of the last ten has not been missed. I pray that you will all be near when we celebrate the next ten, and the ones after. While I doubt I'll be knocking back the Blue Label with the kids, something just as punishingly fun will play out.

And the photos? Forthcoming - Let's hope the camera's still where I think it is first.

How can you (not)?

So many things happen within a day sometimes, that you haven't a clue what you've done. And when you try to even contemplate on the things you've missed out on, it really blows up on you. When the dust settles, the noise subsides, the nerves ease, and time keeps on humming.

The notion of this continuium has been on my mind a lot lately. Which is probably why posts have been limited at best. That and the distal wedge, and you can understand why blogging wouldn't be on the top of my to-do. Add to that a delightful two past weeks where all cares of time and dust are cast into the wind, and the only thing in front of you is that one thing which you've missed and contemplate about everyday, but still don't have a clue but somehow it keeps on humming.

The many sides of pain

We use the word pain so freely, it's often lost upon us how many forms of it are out there. There's physical pain, emotional pain, financial pain. Then there are small pains, big pains, and growing pains. Some pains are tangible, others visible, while others are felt but never seen because they always occur on the backside. But nothing compares to, as I found out this afternoon, distal wedge pain. I will see if eating soup alone for a week will ease it. Then I shall attempt the insane and put myself under the knife again - for the other side. Dentists don't have the highest suicide rate - their patients are just really meticulous murderers...