Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about them bones.

THE PROMPT: "It is said that, 'You are as old as you feel.' So...How old do you feel? (You don't have to give up your age if you don't want to, but indicate whether you feel younger or older than your actual age.)"

What's up, y'all? Happy Monday, if there is such a thing. Hell, like I used to say...any day I can stick two feet on the ground and point two eyes at the ceiling must be a good day, right? Then I stopped sayin' it for awhile, cuz not every day can be rainbows and lollipops and lottery winnings.

So my man Brother Nature 's come up with a pretty interesting prompt. And I mean that in a good way. I've seen a lot of prompts in multiple instances of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , and this is pretty unique. I hope I can do it some justice.

Now, let's assume that I'm at least of sound body, and not struggling to make it up and down the stairs on my busted ankle as it is (and I'll hold off on the "sound mind" portion of this; that window closed awhile ago). I have no problem admitting first off that I'll be 38 years neutral in a few months. I say neutral because I don't feel I'm going anywhere agewise. However, I'm not above making a case for inclusion on either side of the fence.

On one hand, when I was 18 a doctor told me I have very little cartilage left in my knees, which is why when I bend down they crack and click like they're their own deep African tribe. I sometimes have to pull myself up by means other than my legs. The first few hundred feet of walking on a given morning require significant effort sometimes. I say these things when it's just not enough to say, "I have bad knees". To that effect, I often feel like a man much more than 37 years neutral.

On the backhand smash, I'm still a big kid at heart. When the maker was handing out maturity, I cut class and went to the liquor store. When I shave, the cashier at the convenience store proofs me for gum because I look like a little kid. It's not just in my nature, but my constitution to misbehave whenever possible. You'll never accuse me of having grown up if I have any say in the matter (and judging by who's typing this entry and the handle on it, it looks like I do and you don't). On a good day, it's very easy to say I feel younger than my age.

So which is it? Much to the chagrin of ex-girlfriends, former employers, the saints behind the counters of fast food restaurants, the jerks in their double-parked Oldsmobiles and the old ladies who love them, and The People's Voice Of Depew, I'm unofficially not at liberty to be the one who decides that at the given moment. I have my moods, days, and ways, but nary a straight answer on the topic at hand.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Hard to believe this song is over twenty years old. It totally doesn't seem like it. Then again, I'm bad with age guestimating.

VITAL STATS:

The local newspaper, The Cortland Standard, has advertized an opening on their staff for a reporter. This excites me, as I someday want to grow up enough to have another full-time job, preferrably within the media. The ad is pretty liberal in listing the qualifications, which actually works out in my favor because I pretty much have none (outside of an internship I had back in my senior year of high school writing for the local Pennysaver). It's not a big paper, and it's not a big town...again, factors that could possibly work in my favor.

Now, I'm debating whether or not I should go for this position. Part of me is like, "Well, all they can say is no, right?" And part of me is absolutely terrified that they'll say no (with snickers). Here's the dilemma: I currently own no proof of my actual newspaper experience (which isn't much besides writing nupitials and summarizing scores of local tee-ball games, although I did score two major stories and worked my way up to covering my school's baseball and softball teams). Also, they want writing samples. I'm hesitant to use this here dabbling of internetical awesomesauce as a sample of my work because frankly, the only standard it supports is my own, which might or might not be enough to break me into the published world of people who get paid to have their words in print. And my only other writing samples are the poems in my port here at WDC. So I'm curious to hear any advice and opinions about this.

Ironically, speaking of poetry, the same paper is featuring a "Poetry Page" in a few weeks, and I'm considering entering a submission for it, but I haven't a clue. Most of my writing hasn't made it to Cortland yet, so pretty much all I've got is what's on the site for now. So I've got that to think about also.

Anyway, that's enough of me and my problems for the time being. Besides, I've got more pressing issues...like where to go for dinner: the gas station, the drug store, or home. I hope that your problems aren't as troubling. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!