Too Old For This Stuff

There once was a time when...

I could act erratically and be considered a joker.
I could write an essay with less than three hours sleep.
I could mix my drinks and never suffer the consequences.

Over the years since leaving school, I have noticed that I have a mounting list of things that I can't seem to do now. It could be down to my body acting out in protest, an influence by the people I'm surrounded by or I might be *gasp* growing up. 

Above, are three examples that spring to mind and all revert back to my youth. I say youth, I'm not exactly ancient right now but I do feel the pressure to act all grown up and it's petrifying.

Back at school, I could do something daft and make a silly decision with no major repercussions. It's like my age instantly warranted forgiveness. Out in the real world however, life is never that simple. I feel no gratification knowing that I don't fall under the category of young and carefree but instead am a social outcast. I have to be serious and think about a career, setting up a pension and finding someone to grow old with. When did that happen!? I'm still stuck in the  transient stage of self-discovery that most people complete whilst still in education. I wish it was that easy, realising what I want to do.

Travelling has opened up another branch in my life. I've met so many people heading down the same path as me which is reassuring. To some I'm an outcast but to others, I'm just like everyone else.

University did lead to a slight air of enlightenment as I pushed my body to its limits. Gone are the days when I could stay up late and wake up ridiculously early in my voracious attempt at tackling an essay. I didn't need coffee or energy drinks. I must have been radioactive or something as nowadays I can barely string a sentence together after a sound sleep, never mind when I'm deprived of such a luxury!

My lack of endurance after a restless night can only be matched by my absolute lack of tolerance for alcohol. I used to be able to drink an array of random concoctions put in front of me by my merry friends and still manage to function the next day. Presently, I only have to sniff a glass of wine and I'm bed-bound.

This is exactly what happened post-party-bus in Vegas. I didn't think I drank that much but the morning after, I felt like I'd fallen down ten flights of stairs.

Ken called a couple of times to rouse me from my coma but I was not prepared to move. 

Somehow, I managed to crawl out of bed and roll over to the shower. Each bead of hot water pelted my feeble body. The steam calmed me and I rested my body in a position where only my face was being hit. I was hoping the water would massage my senses and I'd feel human again. It felt good but I still wasn't cured.

Surrounding myself with teenagers didn't make me feel any better. Everyone was smiling and hangover-free. I'm going with the excuse that I don't drink that much anymore so when I do, my body can't handle it. My body is a temple and all that.

As much as I wanted to go on the New York New York (casino) roller coaster, I'd not eaten and I still felt groggy. I didn't want to risk feeling worse. Whilst a few of the others went up to the top floor, I went off to find some food.

Afterwards, there was still some daylight left so we went to The Venetian, a casino and hotel that is supposed to emanate the beautiful Italian city. Vegas has the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty so why not Venice?

Although it has been a long while since I'd been to Venice, I don't recall it being that creepy. The decor reminded me of Venus Fort, the shopping mall in Odaiba, Japan. Odaiba boasts elaborate architecture, marble water fountains and artificial sunsets every 30 minutes. Not willing to be outdone, Vegas went one step further with incorporating a river complete with motorised gondolas so tourists can experience the "true" Venice. 

Just one Cornetto...wait, I mean...O sole mio!!**

The over-the-top lavish replica of St. Mark's Square I can just about get my head around. The actors that warbled random songs whilst sporting manic grins were just too much. I stepped to the back of the crowd before they had chance to jig in my direction. I think this eerie display was supposed to represent Mardis Gras...well I hope! 

After soaking up as much fake-Venice as we could handle, we headed back to the hotel via the monorail. I laughed as the announcer warned us against everything an idiot would do to harm themselves. Due to the sue-nation that makes up America these days, it is a safety net that is sadly needed to protect firms from accident claims.

Back at the hotel I still couldn't muster up any enthusiasm to eat so I went back to bed. Enveloped in my duvet, I took comfort in watching crap TV and snacking on whatever I had left from the day's outing.

Later that evening Ken came over to see what I was doing. Some of the others were going out with the guys from the night before. I didn't feel like leaving my cocoon and knew that I'd only be getting in the way. Oh, and I wasn't invited, ha! 

What was only meant to be a brief pit-stop, turned into a lengthy chat. Ken and I talked about random rubbish which led to a rather deep, meaningful and almost philosophical discussion. 

Although I wasn't down in any sense or form, I did feel uplifted by the end. It made me realise how much I have grown and cemented my beliefs that I should no longer resent events from my past but be thankful as they have brought me to this moment in my life. I used to carry so much anger and stress about everything and nothing. I avoided positive thinking and proclaimed to be a realist. I'm still sarcastic and dry-humoured, that will never change, but I've learned to let a lot of things go and just live. You can never be too old to do that.

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**Although both songs are linked to Venice and sung by gondoliers to tourists, O 
Sole Mio is a Neapolitan song. A different ice cream and a different city!