I was out and about last night/this morning. Well, while that's true, it's imprecise. I was out people watching in a very crowded bar while sipping on a drink. Said bar was what I would describe as "too crowded" and "too loud."
Ultimately, that means only one thing: I'm getting too old.
Sad, isn't it?
But now, in retrospect, I'm a little melancholy. When I was supposed to be in the prime of my bar going years -- mid-twenties -- I was already a gainfully employed "adult." And when I was in graduate school, I was too young to appreciate how good I had it. And now, most of the time, it's the sort of thing I can take or leave.
I wish I could go back in time and fix it. I want to tell younger Dara to not make the same decisions, to not make the same mistakes. To savor the good parts of life while she's young. To make the right decisions, choose the right paths. Because all of a sudden, she'll turn around, and be in her thirties, and the music in the bar is too loud, and there are too many people, and all she'll want to do is sit on a couch and have polite conversation with the people around her without having to scream at them.