Symptoms of being 35

The narrator treats turning thirty‑five like a rite of passage, offering a look at how society, friends, and even barbers gauge a man’s worth by the number of candles on his cake. With a conversational, almost confessional style, he shares the odd rules he’s invented to stay youthful, from the way he answers a phone call to the jokes he makes about hair loss and average age of the world. The opening chapters bounce between memories of cheap beer sold in vases, chats with a buddy named Legion, and the absurdity of trying to keep a secret about being “above the average”.

Readers find a blend of slap‑stick anecdotes and self‑questioning that captures the uneasy middle ground between reckless youth and settled adulthood. As the narrator navigates his marriage, kids, and the stubborn feeling that age is just a number, he invites listeners to laugh at his missteps while recognizing the universal tug of growing older. The tone stays light enough for a listen yet honest enough to spark a familiar smile about the quirks of reaching that half‑century mark.