I turned 30 a week ago. In the months leading up to it everyone made a big deal about it saying how it’s a big birthday to hit. They said the day I turn 30 I’ll wake up suddenly in tons of pain and my limbs won’t work anymore.
That’s how I was a couple years ago so I was admittedly somewhat afraid of this past week. I was sure one day I’d wake up and have difficulty getting out of bed or something.
But I think about the differences between me and the people who were telling me these things and I think I still have a couple more years left before it hits me. Taking age out of the equation it’s obvious I take care of my body more than they do.
The only pain I have is knee pain from years of marching band and drum corps, and back pain from my spinal stenosis. And neither of those are constant anymore because I make sure I am still taking care of them. Though I did mess my knee up pretty bad last week during a workout it was because the program I’m currently trying had some jumping that my knee didn’t agree with, it’s already feeling better.
In addition to my body being different than I might have expected, my life is in a different place than I would have thought 10 years ago. If you had asked me 10 years ago what I to expect about different aspects of my life, the only thing I would get right would be my wife.
All through high school I wanted to be a music teacher. I loved helping people learn and had worked with a couple drumlines before graduating. It just felt right.
Then in high school I had my first negative parent experience. I was the head instructor for a drumline. One night at rehearsal I told one of the bass drummers that he should be able to play one of the easier parts because he was a third year member.
His mother, who later showed more signs of being a lawn-mower-mom, sent me an essay about how I shouldn’t be calling her son stupid. I didn’t reply. To this day she’s still the only parent who has had any complaints about how I do things with drumlines.
Now I hear stories from my friends who are teachers and I’m glad I didn’t end up as one. They all have more lawn-mower-parents contacting them than parents who just want to see how their kid is doing.
But parents aren’t the reason I didn’t become a teacher. They’re just the reason I’m glad I didn’t. I was actually going to college to get a teaching degree but never got the chance to finish.
As I got closer to graduating high school I was told I could work on getting more experience with musical things to prepare for college instead of worrying about saving up money. Since my mom didn’t make much I would have no problem qualifying for financial aid.
But then right before I started college she found a sugar daddy and got remarried. I didn’t know that because he made over $100,000 a year I no longer qualified for financial aid while living with them. I also didn’t have money to move out because I hadn’t saved any and didn’t have a job. Looking back on it I think she had told me just the right amount of information to keep me there so she could keep collecting child support.
So after a few semesters I no longer had any way to pay for college and had to drop out. A few months later I had my first real job. That eventually led me to the job I have now.
I feel like it all worked out in the end. Or at least it’s working its way in the right direction. I’ve been looking for a few years and finally found a college that could give me a degree I was interested in while still letting me work full time. I started this past fall at the University of Minnesota at Crookston to work towards a dual degree in Manufacturing Management and Quality Management.
I only had three classes last semester because I marching band things taking up a large portion of my time. But this semester I’m a full time student.
Also, this isn’t really related to my goals or anything but, ever since I started attending it seems like half the things I see people posting online are about Minnesota. And maybe 75% of those things are about the university. It’s like targeted ads but with actual people posting things.
A Life, Ensnared 