There was no plan.

I didn't spend my childhood thinking about what I'd be doing when I was 40. It was just a little too far away.

I thought I'd be an architect until I started to go to school for that...and quickly realized that shit wasn't going to happen.

And getting past 27 was about as far as I thought, until I was 26.

The 30s were pretty good. But now, on the cusp of 40, I find myself stuck in places I never imagined I'd be in.

And the turn of the personal decade won't get me unstuck. Unless I just walk into my job on Wednesday and say, "F it, I'm out!"

I should also point out that I'm not one for censorship, but it's pretty funny to say letters instead of curse words sometimes. That's got to be old age.

Or I'm really bored with the fucking shit.

It's not like I'm Prometheus. I'm not chained to rocks. And my liver doesn't miraculously grow back every day after obliterating it with alcohol. I'm mean crows.

There's a list of things to do today, and I realized when looking at it over my morning coffee that it's not all gonna get done. I've got about four hours, and there will be some editing involved.

I like lists. I write them all the time. And I use post it notes like disposable note pads. So I guess you could say I like the environment, but I'm not, like, in love with it all the time. I have to recycle today.

They Might Be Giants just turned 30. Which means, I think, the Johns are over 50. I sang "Dead" on Halloween. It's still my theme song.

My band is almost 4. So we've been together almost a tenth of my life. It doesn't seem like a long time, but it's been ages since we played Santa Fe.

Sometimes I use tape instead of thumb tacks. Sometimes I forget to use tape.

An uptick in police pulling over drivers for the slightest infractions (this in response to the red light cameras being shut down...cops are f'n vengeful fuckers) has coincided with me deciding to not wear my seat belt a lot of the time. This is called taking a risk when you're almost 40. Fuckin' sad.

So what to do with the second half of my life?

Well, the list says I need new pants and shoes...

Matt Worley knows his numbers.