Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead.
Yesterday is a promise that youve broken.
Dont close your eyes, dont close your eyes,
This is your life.
And today is all youve got now,
And today is all youve ever had.
Dont close your eyes.

This is your life, are you who you want to be?
This is your life, are you who you want to be?
This is your life, is it everything that you dreamed
That it would be when the world was younger
And you have everything to lose?

Yesterday is a kid in the corner.
Yesterday is dead and over.

The preceding lyrics were written by singer/songwriter Jonathan Foreman and performed by his band Switchfoot. Ive heard hundreds of songs over the years with relatable lyrics, but this one really caught my ear as if it had been written by me, about me. With a sense of regret and dreams unfulfilled, this song hit a tender spot for me; like a three-minute recap of my life had been set to music.

I just turned 36-years-old last summer (shout-out to all my fellow Cancerians). While I have developed feelings of dread associated with growing older, I dont view birthdays with the usual negativity most people experience merely because they are aging and getting one step closer to the grave. I dont mind getting older, as I think one is only as old as he or she feels. I eat (generally) well and exercise with great frequency and have been rewarded with being in the best shape of my life. Though I may feel like Im 26, I cannot ignore the fact that I am actually ten years older than that and have yet to do anything meaningful with my life. Whether its logical or not, I painstakingly measure the passing years based on my accomplishments, or lack there of.

Eighteen years ago when I graduated from high school and embarked on my college tenure, I never would have imagined that my life would be where it stands today. I figured by my mid-30s I would be living the picture-perfect life with a successful career, residing in a nice house with my beautiful wife and adoring children (insert white picket fence and frolicking pets, if you like). Instead, I am still trying to find my niche in the economic world (after a series of McJobs and a layoff); Im relegated to living in apartments; I have been unable to sustain a serious relationship longer than six months (can it really be constituted as serious when it only lasts half a year?); and children bug the crap out of me. Thats a far cry from the idyllic images I had floating around in my nave head.

Where did it all go wrong (Im sure my parents ask themselves that on a regular basis)? It would be far too easy to place all fault on the current volatile state of the economy, and while the jobs are slim pickins right now, I have to take the brunt of the blame upon myself. It all comes down to a lack of ambition. Aside from when I was a typical, perverted 16-year-old boy and wanted to be a gynecologist, I cannot recall a time in my youth when I knew what I wanted to do when I grew up. That led to an undeclared major in college, which eventually became Communications when I discovered I could learn more about the mass media. It seemed like a logical step to take since I was an entertainment junkie, but I still didnt know what I was going to do with the degree once I had earned it. I erroneously figured that everything would somehow fall into place. Thus began the meandering I have since done throughout my life.

I wont pretend to be a qualified shrink, but I honestly feel that most of the issues (I prefer that term over problems it just sounds better to me, so go with it) invading my life stem from my lack of direction and the unstable foundation that has created. I just seem to lack the confidence necessary to cruise through life because I know that I really havent made it yet. I still dont know exactly what I would like to do (other than write), and the current shaky job market is playing a role in my inability to find a gig that makes me happy. If I had dared to dream a bit higher in my youth (instead of dreaming about getting high), navigating through the meager employment listings probably wouldnt be an issue at this point. Is it fair to blame everything on the past? Maybe not, but Ive been struggling to find answers to my issues (not problems) and grasp a hold of a sliver of contentment, and finding the root of the source is a great start, as far as Im concerned.

You might think I have no right to complain since I have my health and I have been able to make ends meet financially, but I think I deserve more (why? just because). Its hard to make sacrifices when I see friends and acquaintances enjoying the spoils of their efforts (i.e. youthful dreams coming to fruition). Many times I have reluctantly declined invitations to go out socially with my more-successful friends because I cannot keep up with their free-spending ways. I just cant afford to hit the finer restaurants and pay an equal share of the bill. You see, they always order a slew of appetizers and numerous bottles of wine, in addition to the entrees, and find it easier to divide the bill into uniform portions instead of calculating what each person owes based on what they ordered. Rather than draw attention to the fact that I am not on equal ground with them by consuming less and demanding to only pay for what crosses my lips, I devise a litany of excuses as to why I cannot join them. Call it jealousy or a desire to avoid embarrassment, Im not proud of the dishonesty, and the resulting night at home alone can be mind numbing, but its just something I have become adept at doing.

And oh how I long for the day when I can finally set up residency in a place of my own and give a not-so-fond farewell to overpriced apartments with paper-thin walls and little by means of insulation from the cold and heat. Being a finicky sleeper who needs ideal conditions for a nightly slumber, I am at my wits end over noisy neighbors who dont have a penchant for going to bed early and rising early, like myself. That hasnt been the case in all my living arrangements, but I am currently revisiting my days of insomnia and the loud-mouthed bitch next door with poor taste in music is not helping matters one bit. I have been tempted to retaliate in a passive-aggressive manner and make a clamor of my own when I get up at 4:30 a.m., but I have thus far relented in fear of spurring a vicious cycle I want no part of. Instead, I accept where I am, experiment with different types of earplugs, and continue to dream of a living space with no shared walls.

I am determined to make some changes in the next 365 days so I can celebrate turning 37 with a big blowout instead of a personal pity party. Ive got some irons in the fire that wont immediately lead to great wealth or more peaceful living quarters, but it will be a step in the right direction towards getting my life back on track (if I can even say it was ever on track). Life is too short to dwell on the past, even if it has a direct correlation to the present.