Extra-ordinary > Ordinary?

A brief respite from gaming blogs (and for the three of you who didn't breath a sigh of relief, there is a new one of those following soon) but for today I wanted to write about something that's been on my mind for the last 24 hours or so.

I'm a big fan of the i, (The newspaper, not the letter itself obviously) and I often read it at work as it's the perfect antidote to the idiocy I have to put myself through on a daily basis simply to earn a half-decent wage

In yesterday's paper, I was settling down to read the FreeView column, which was written by Archie Bland and titled, "The difficulty of adjusting to a life less extraordinary", (which I will link to if it is online when I get home - am writing this on my phone, so browsing is limited (I am home now, and have just checked, but cannot locate the article anywhere.. oh well!)) discussing the retirement of Rebecca Adlington from competitive swimming at the age of 23. Now I have no problem with the article in question, and the sentiment and discussion of the topic was well handled - but there was one thing that stuck in my craw, and this being the era of blogging, I thought I'd point it out.

At the end of the second paragraph, after pointing out that retiring from competitive sports is different to retiring from anything else (I.e. you do it much earlier than most careers), he makes the following statement:

"If Rebecca Adlington is past it at that age, then what am I at nearly-30?"

And do you know what my first response was?

"Bugger, the deputy editor of the independent is younger than me"

It's the same response I first had when Matt Smith was announced as playing the Eleventh Doctor, that realisation that people doing the sort of jobs I always vaguely thought I might get to do one day are now younger than me, and the gap has therefore increased to ridiculous levels.

(And yes, that is me admitting that I would want to play the Doctor, just as it is me admitting I would love to just become a professional writer, let alone an editor!)

So, I guess my question is, If Archie Bland is worried about feeling past it at nearly-30, what does that make me at 32?

And the answer? I'm happy.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who are ridiculously happy all the time and wind up all of us normal people about it, just by grinning inanely, but I am happy more often than not nowadays, which I class as a win.

OK, at the moment my primary employment is a job that I don't enjoy and would happily walk out of to do most other things, but who cares about that?

In my 14 years of being an adult (officially I mean, I know that mentally I could still have trouble being considered as an adult), I have achieved a lot of my ambitions in some way or another.

Creatively I have co-written seven musicals that have been performed, as well as several pantomimes, a one-act play, a novel that can be purchased by anyone in the world (I said can be, not has been, but even that doesn't bother me too much!) I have recorded 2 EP's of original music, written a ridiculous number of blogs, several short stories - and you know what?

I can call myself a professional at these things! I have been paid for it in the past ergo I can consider myself a professional. OK, so the only payments have been royalties from the 10 people who have bought my book, and the £50 I was paid for a local school to do one performance of one of my musicals, but that means that I can state I am a professional writer and composer (just one who only makes, on average, £6 a year).

And who can forget that I am also an amateur film-maker, who created the masterpiece entertaining passable no-budget feature film "Norwich and Saggers: Smarter than the Average Bear" as well as a theatre technician, video editor, occasional actor and all round idiot.

But my proudest achievement? I'm marrying Neety in just over two months time And that it was will stay with me throughout my life
Do I hope to write more books? Yes.
Do I hope to make more films? Yes.
Do I hope to write more musicals? Why the hell not!
Do I hope to record an actual full-length album, which I have been proudly stating I am going to do since I was 17? Yes.

But if I don't achieve any of that? I'm not going to cry into my cornflakes or attempt to take my life by swallowing a sharp piece of burnt toast (I appear to be heavy on the breakfast metaphors today).

I may be one of the millions of citizens who has, from an exterior perspective a life less than extraordinary, but do you know what? It's not.

It's when you have an ordinary life that you understand how extraordinary it can be.

(Apologies for the upbeat and positive blog, sarcasm will return in the next entry)