So, my wife staged–in love--a bit of an intervention this morning.
You need to keep your hair trimmed. You need to shave everyday. You need to care if your clothes are wrinkled and if you have food on them. Avoid wearing clothes that smell.
In other words, it’d be better if you acted like an adult.
So, first, she’s absolutely right. I’ve let myself go–significantly–since I’ve moved to Texas. When I got here, I was 240 lbs, and swimming 1/4 mile a day in the pool. I was comfortably in XL sized clothes, without vanity sizing. I was also 37, and I had more hair and less grey hair. I got regular haircuts and kept my buzz between 1/8" to 1/4". You know…tidy.
Today, I’m 272 lbs, I’ve often gone 2 months between haircuts. I have an explosion of grey hair and look much older than my 41 years (as of this past Saturday). My face is sallow and jowly. I’m wearing progressive bifocals.
What can I say, I’m a middle-age, sedentary Combs male.
I write because it occurs to me that when I was at my most “successful” in my career, I was:
- Eight years younger
- Eight-five pounds lighter. I could fit a ‘Large’ shirt, which has never happened with me.
- Wearing contact lenses, instead of glasses
- Taking different meds than I take now.
In short, I looked better. Was I better? Lord, no. I was growing more incompetent by the day, farther and farther from technology. I was “programming by powerpoint.”
But, I was on the fast-track. Some of it was dumb luck, but some of it was probably super-dumb lizard-brain stuff, like being presentable and attractive (for me, anyways)
So here I sit at 41, middle-age spread firmly in force, shaving every-other day, dressing down.
So, I’ll change. We’ll see how it goes.