9 Miserable Realizations I Had On My 26th Birthday

9 Miserable Realizations I Had On My 26th Birthday

I turned 26 years old a few short days ago. Having been 25 for so long, I got acquainted with the expectations and norms associated with that particular age. This newfound age comes with new territory that I’m still navigating, but here’s what I’ve discovered so far.

I need a chiropractor.

Recent aches and pains in my lower back have finally led to me visiting a chiropractor for the first time in my life. I never knew things could have been as out of whack as they were until this 110-pound woman crushed, jerked, slammed, and otherwise forcefully manipulated my spine and neck for the better part of an hour.

“Do you feel a little looser?”


“I bet you feel like you’re 18 or 19 again.”

*clever smirk and laugh*

This was an actual conversation that was not paraphrased for the sake of brevity.

A Health Savings Account is now justified.

In reference to the discovery listed above, I have now reached the conclusion that an HSA might be justified. In recent years, I have neglected setting one up because I have in large, neglected my health and foregone any and all doctors and dentist appointments. Lately, I’ve been trying to get back on track with this preventative healthcare shit. Between myself and my wife, coupled with an extremely high deductible for my health care plan, I am going to finally be setting up a Health Savings Account. In previous years, any money in this account would have gone untouched and I just didn’t want to go through the hassle of setting one up. In previous years, I was also an idiot.

People are no longer surprised if you’re married.

Age 25:

“Oh you’re married?! But you’re so young!”

Age 26:

“Have you and your wife thought about kids?”

Again, actual conversations – not paraphrased.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. So let me get this straight. For the first two years of my marriage, it was surprising to think of me as a married man. But now I’m one year older and it’s standard protocol to expect kids? I must have missed the memo on that one.

Once a week is enough.

I know, I know, “Congrats on the sex.” But coming from someone who has been in a relationship of one form or another for the better part of a decade, I’ve gotten rather accustomed to frequent extracurricular activities. At age 26, it’s no longer reasonable such a high volume of action. We are no longer a couple of bunnies going extra innings in a 7-game series anymore. Instead, it’s more of a weekly routine type deal. I get mine, she gets hers. Both parties are satisfied.

5:30 a.m. really isn’t that early.

If you think about it, it’s really only one hour earlier than 6:30 a.m. (#math) which is when most normal adults wake up. I’ve been routinely waking up at 5:30 for the past 5 months on account of work requiring a 6:30-6:30 schedule. This past weekend, even with the daylight savings change, I could not sleep in. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. like an absolute psycho. And I didn’t even go out hunting, which is a crime in and of itself.

I’m full blown addicted to coffee.

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I limit myself to one cup of coffee a day – black, no sugar. Lately, that count has grown to a standard two cups a day. And I’ve noticed the onset of headaches when I don’t get my fix. What a terrible realization. How long till I’m one of those perpetually-filled cup animals in the office that should probably just have an IV full of java with them at all times?

I’m done with shots.

At my birthday dinner, I turned down a shot of tequila from one of my buddies. That’s right, I turned down free alcohol. Getting aggressive is saved for very special occasions nowadays. And I’ve always said this – beyond 21 years old, your birthday is not special. No one owes you anything, especially not alcohol. I’m trying to hold down this Mexican food and old Jose has never been the best advocate for retaining stomach contents. So yeah, I turned down a shot because frankly…

Birthdays are overrated.

You know what I did after my birthday dinner of a huge plate of enchiladas? Nothing. I had two margaritas and went to bed. The next day my wife and I drove up to my parent’s camp with very minimal cell service and no other company. Instead of late nights at the bars and crippling hangovers, I finished a book and was in bed before 10 o’clock both nights. And I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

My student loans should be half-paid off by now


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Mainer born and raised. Boston sports. Miller Lites. Let's get drunk and eat chicken fingers..

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