. . . not because I’m no longer in touch with popular culture. (I’ve never claimed to be cool.)
. . . not because I suddenly turned gray or anything. (I was balding badly anyway, until Headblade saved me.)
. . . not because people started calling me “Sir.” (That was years ago.)
. . . not because I’ve hit some milestone birthday. (My birthday’s a long way off, and it won’t be a milestone.)
No, this is the semester I’ve become old because my longstanding system of at least one all-nighter every other week during the semester no longer works. I can’t bring myself to do it, at least not with decent results. Get by on 4 or 5 hours of sleep every night during the week, sure. But get things done after about 3am? Nope.
I’m holding out hope that the problem is that I’ve been sick for three weeks now, and when I’m fully recovered–perhaps after spring break–everything will be back to normal. And, of course, I had been looking forward to transitioning all-nighters out next year, when the Little Man goes to kindergarten. (If he’s in school every day, even at half-days, then I can do my work then, like a normal person.)
It’s sad, in a way. If I’d known it was going to go, then I would have had a party.