You know, I turn 40 in like a week. That'll fuck you up, son.

But I wrote a novel, I'm represented at a monster agency, I've got a hot wife, I've got an adorable daughter, I ride a hyperexotic Italian superbike and I mixed two network television shows simultaneously two weeks ago. So what am I doing with my life?

Slaying.

PROTIP: You aren't required to know what you're doing with your life. All that's required is that you have the stamina to get what you want out of it. A friend's mom asked me what I wanted to do with my life when I was seventeen. I told her I was thinking of:

A) being a chef

B) Joining the special forces

C) mechanical engineering

D) Law

or

E) Medicine

And I honestly would have been cool with any of those choices.

(I fought the hyperexotic italian superbike to a standstill this weekend. I know that thing pretty much biblically at this point. And after two days, I was worse off than when I started. And I walked in the door and my two-in-December daughter screamed "DADDY!" and ran over. Then she said "Daddy hug" and proceeded to give me a big hug. Then she said "daddy sweaty! Need shower! Sweaty! Need shower! and my wife was just about dying laughing.)

(Turns out I'm cool with 40)