“I don’t like getting into arguments because it’s too much work to talk,” my wife states.

I second her insight.

At this point in our lives, we just have less energy to give a shit; or, to say it another way, we have less shit to give. If we decide to engage in every battle, there’d be no time left for anything else.

Things that used to bother us… don’t anymore. Another power outlet stopped working? Okay, fuck it. Relatives getting bent comparing us with their children? Cool beans! Look at me care!

The older we get, the more precious time becomes. It passes by quicker with each day. The time it takes to give a shit about things that don’t significantly matter to us has become a luxury we just can’t afford.

And we don’t even have children. I can’t fathom how much less care is given by parents with young children (to things that don’t pertain to their children, that is). If you’ve changed many explosive diapers in your days, do you think a little mud is going to bother you?

Doubtful.

Growing up, I used to think that everybody was looking at me – that everything I did mattered. So I magnified every little thing. What did it mean that Kathy sat next to me in class today? Oh my god why did she not wave back to me?

I suppose that’s all a part of growing up and figuring things out. Honestly, if I could go back in time, I don’t think I’d be able to convince younger versions of me that what I was feeling would turn out to be completely trivial.

I do wish, though, that I hadn’t wasted so much time worrying about the little things. Additionally, I hope this insight will teach me to listen more closely to those who have gone before me. It turns out that many of the things they’ve shared with me have come home.

I wonder how I’ll feel 10 years from now. Would I suddenly give more shit? Only time can tell…