I think the saddest part is that when I'm 50, I will probably no longer feel this awed about being this sad. It'll just be a matter of course.

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I feel like life tends to take us by the throat and squeeze, hard. I know I whine about this a lot. I know I'm not the only one. I know that I shouldn't expect anything else. I have to grit my teeth and do it, get through it, endure it. It's not even all that bad. It could be a lot worse; I have a lot to be grateful for.

This is, I suppose, what we call bittersweet. 

I think it's time to sit down (or go for a walk) and reshuffle/reorganise all my thoughts and priorities.