Jason Flamm
Jul 24, 2017 · 3 min read
A lot.

I write less when things are going well. And lately, things are going really, exceptionally well.

So, I’ve done no writing at all.

Every forced journal entry begins with, “It’s been awhile since I wrote last…” and then I spend the next page just catching up my life.

Which, in a way, is completely silly. It’s my journal. My journal knows everything that’s in my brain. Who am I catching up with? I guess I think that some day my journal will be found as part of some collective history of the world and, well, it can’t be missing important parts of my life, now can it?

How will anyone know that over the past couple of months I’ve bought my first ever house (with my partner), got engaged (with the same partner), had a car break down and, in turn, bought my first ever brand new car?

Of course, too, I need to tell my journal how I was promoted to a Senior Level Position at work and all of a sudden I’m on the highest profile account and, suddenly, busy as hell.

My favorite joke to tell lately is that I’ve gone through “adult puberty.”

Childish things have been cast aside and stored in tote boxes in a corner of the unfinished basement of my house.

Saturday mornings, when I used to get up early and write have been taken over by considering when best to mow the lawn (to avoid this god awful heat), thinking about what the “house is missing” as we prepare for our first house e-vite gathering, and learning to golf.

I golf now.

Yes, in case you’re wondering, my new car is an SUV because we are planning to have children sooner rather than later.

I’ve become the suburbs.

And… somehow… beyond all reason. I’m 100% okay with this. I feel good. I feel really really good. I don’t feel smothered or disenchanted. I don’t feel like I gave up or sold out. Maybe it’s cognitive dissonance and that’s just a place most people my age get to, but it’s reason enough for me.

I think, ultimately, I’m good with it because it’s a bunch of things I never thought I’d achieve.

Five years ago I blew up my entire life.

From May 15th to June 15th of 2017, everything came together to prove that it was the right decision. It was like the end of a TV series that all of a sudden got to its final season and realized, “Shit. We’ve got a lot of loose ends.”

I wasn’t prepared for it all to happen at the same time, but I’m glad it did.

Right before we signed on the house I started thinking about my next five years. What the hell am I going to do now? Then a bunch of dominoes fell and it’s like life telling me to move onto book number 2.

Well, with all the things that have gone on my life it’s more like book 5 or 6.

Since I never thought I’d achieve any of this, everything after this will be completely uncharted territory. Not only will things that come next be unthought of, they will be unfathomable.

Of course, there’s the whole thing that life isn’t linear and things could always fall to shit real fast. But, what fun is that to think about?

I write this because I’ve not written in a long time. Like my journal, I feel the need to use Medium as a chronicle of life and my ego tells me that my “audience” is going to have holes if I don’t say something.

I say all of that tongue-in-cheek, but also there’s a necessary part of my brain which allows me to write on a public platform that feeds a little ego that tells me “others wonder where you’ve gone.”

I don’t even have a real way to bring this whole story together. I just hope “catching up” will let me move past it and, like my journal entries, allow me to feel ready to write again.

So, let’s see what this adult world brings, shall we?

Jason Flamm

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