As you somehow keep holding on when the rodeo horse of life tries to buck you off so it can face its ultimate foe (the rodeo clown of life), you'll eventually reach a kind of second puberty. The first time, you transformed butterfly-like from child to slightly grosser child. Once all your body's jagged edges and weird lumps settle into place, you enjoy a prime that'll last about eight minutes, and you'll be too drunk or high to remember it.
Second puberty will hit between 28 and 33. The physical changes you'll undergo -- the ones I'm experiencing now -- aren't too dramatic, but are different enough to be unsettling. It's a harbinger of horrors to come. It's like Batman getting that vision of the Earth reduced to a dusty wasteland controlled by Darkseid in Batman v. Superman. I want to be Batman in that scenario, but it's become increasingly apparent that I am the wasteland. As evidence of my physical dilapidation, I present the following.
After 9 I Can -- And Will -- Fall Asleep Anywhere
I've been afflicted with a punctual form of narcolepsy. No matter how caffeinated I am, I will fall asleep instantly if certain easily met conditions are present:
1) I have recently eaten dinner after having made dinner, which I do every night.
2) Most of my weight is heaped onto something comfortable. The definition of what can be comfortable is wide enough to include leaning on a wall coated with satin paint (the most comfortable of paints).
3) It is at least 9 p.m.
When those three elements combine, I involuntarily enter, exit, and then reenter a deep state of unconsciousness that I will deny having entered if caught in the act. Vehement denial, punctuated with wild fits of slurred vulgarity, is another symptom of this recently acquired disorder.
When one of my molecules touches one couch fiber after a late dinner.