Sigh

I've reached that point where I'm too old to be a child protege and too young to be in anyway acclaimed. I'm at that not extraordinary point of my life we all get to where I understand that I'm no more special or remarkable than the people around me and therefore must work very hard to be remarkable before I die, so that all the people I thought I was better than, understand that there was something behind it and not just delusion.
I figure the right age for me to now do something noteworthy is probably 55. By that age you're considered old enough to have lived enough to be wise enough to do something remarkable which other people will actually consider is an achievement worth 30 seconds of their attention. I know this sounds a little Warholist... if such a thing exists. With a tinge of existentialist.
So the bad news is, for the next 28 years I'm living in a meaningless achievement void until I get to an age where my achievements will be as respectable as they would have been if, say, at the age of five I'd filled a concert hall with dignitaries wanting to listen to my amazing piano compositions.
Everything you do in your middle years is ordinary. People just accept whatever you're doing as being the thing that you do. Your chance to be noteworthy has passed.
So does it really matter how I fill the void, as long as I pump out a Man Booker Prize winner when I'm grey at the temples and dressing exclusively in black skivvies the way ageing arty homosexuals seem to do compulsorily?
I guess I'm asking, where do I fit in?