I support needle exchange programs

It is now less than 6 months from my 30th birthday. I panic occasionally. Deep in the chest, tingly fingers kind of panic. Most people tell me to relax, not as big a deal as I make it out to be.
But it is a big deal. I spent my 20’s looking at people in their 30’s trying to hold on to their youth and it looked pathetic. So I partied in my 20’s but I tempered it by working and saving and being just responsible enough so that when I did turn 30 I would have this nifty little adult life all set up. Turn the page and here I am, all set up. I have the house and the job and the cars and the relationship and the matching furniture set. I hit 30 somewhere around 28 and forgot to continue living in my 20’s.
Now I have 6 months to pack those lost 18 months into. I need something fast, effective and appropriately decadent. I need a habit that will force me to pawn my stuff, vomit on my new carpeting and wrap my car around a bridge support. I want the words ‘grotesque’ and ‘spectacular’ used to describe my freefall. ‘Trainspotting’ will look like a vacation guide to a sunny resort. ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ will make sense to you.
I want to explode in a bright, technicolor burst of drugs and mayhem.
And when I get back from Amsterdam, I want my regularly scheduled life back.