Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

Me on my tenth birthday. Thirty-one years ago.  14,965 Days             That’s how many days I’ve been alive, so far. I was born 41 years ago; it doesn’t feel like it. It never feels like I’m the age I’m “supposed” to be. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t matured or learned things along the way. It just means that I’m not “acting my age,” so to speak. That means I’m not doing the stereotypical things a person my age would do. I’m not sure what a 41-year-old is supposed to do. Look at investment portfolios, have champagne with supermodels off the bonnet of a Mercedes? Is that what I’m supposed to be doing? Double points if the model is named Mercedes and has rack and pinion steering. Fuel injection is a given.             You are as old as you are made to believe you are. I’ve talked about this numerous times that being 40-something doesn’t mean you’re “over the hill.” I ...

One Hell of Hero I was talking with a new co-worker about Dr. Who. I had mentioned to her that I visited England last year, and would return this year. She got a bit jealous, and then said, “Your parents must have left you a lot of money.” Honestly, it’s not that expensive. If you know the right websites, and book during the right time, it’s very affordable. I knew she was joking, but hearing it triggered something. I calmly said, “My mother didn’t leave me any money.” That’s not entirely true, as she had some pocket change, but that was about it. I didn’t keep that money for myself. Instead, I spent it to buy Yesterday some cat food. It still feels weird not to buy her food, though she’s been gone since February. My co-worker looked at me, and saw how serious I was. I then said, “My mother passed away last year.” “Really?” “Yes, she did. July 26 th .” “Oh, my God. I feel like a dick. It had to be on my birthday.” “It’s okay,” I said....