The Spiraling End of an Era

There was a time in my life when nothing held higher importance than amusement. I refer to that time period as the era of Ballin' Out of Control. An era marked with irresponsible spending and general disregard of anything resembling consequences. Want to buy rounds until you can't afford gas? Fucking do it, what's the problem? Wanna blow a paycheck at Toys R Us on Nerf guns and remote control boats? Do you, son. I mean, what's the point of life if grown men can't have speed boat battles in the apartment complex lake/retention pond? That was 2005. Now is 2013. Mo' money, mo' problems. The most lavish thing I've dropped dollars on lately is an MRI. A ballin'-ass MRI. What happened? I think I missed the memo on the death of the American Dream. Did you get it? Work. Pay bills. Die. The r/c boats didn't make the cut in 2013. Nor did the laughter that came with them. I went to work today, then I paid bills.