I think being in your 20s completely sucks. Sucks hard. Sucks so hard that if being in your 20s was in a professional sucking competition, it would totally win the blue sucks the hardest ribbon. I think my problem is that my expectations were too high. You always hear people refer back to their 20s with nostalgia and longing. Oh, back when I was in my carefree 20s when I had no responsibilities and no worries. Back when I backpacked across Europe, or drank myself silly on weeknights and every weekend, or drove cross-country, or was promiscuous, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in your 20s. Problem is, I haven’t done any of that stuff. Okay, maybe the drinking thing a little. But mostly, so far, my 20s have been about school, having no money, working, having no money, trying to get myself to the point where I can actually start my life, trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be, and also having no money. Suckity suck suck sucks.
Where are all the adventures and good times I was promised? I worry sometimes that I’m too responsible, I’ve made too many mature and reasonable choices and when the time comes to look back and shake my head at all those wild and crazy things I did, instead I’ll be the one going, yeah, that college degree, that 9 to 5 job after and then the going to law school. Crazy, huh? Whew, I sure did it up huge. So far, the craziest and most spontaneous thing I’ve done is randomly up and going to Africa for seven weeks between my junior and senior years of college. But that was to help people. Honestly, I make myself sick.
I’m afraid I’m doing it wrong. I’m afraid I’m missing out. I’m afraid that I’ve been working so hard to get to the point where I can start my life, that I haven’t realized my life has already started. I’m afraid I’m going to look back and regret not having more fun. I’m also afraid I don’t know how. Sure I could backpack across Europe but I’m not really a backpacking kind of girl. Backpacks are heavy, hostels gross me out, and I’m very dependent on regular showering. Does it count if you are chauffeured across Europe? Or maybe someone could carry your backpack for you and you could sleep in a nice hotel? Cause I would be up for that. Drinking all the time is exhausting. It hurts more now than it ever did and for every night I drink, I need three days to recover. I just can’t keep up that kind of schedule. Promiscuity is equally unlikely. Seems like a lot of work. Also, I don’t know where you’ve been or when was the last time you washed your sheets. Or yourself for that matter. I would do the cross-country drive with my girls but that’ll only take about 2 weeks and then I’m right back where I started. So where do I even begin with this fun business?
Quite frankly, I blame my friends. Yes, friends, loyal readers of this blog, I blame you. You are all so sickeningly responsible. Every single one of you is gainfully employed or in grad school or engaged. You all pay your bills on time, go to bed at reasonable hours, and make decisions that are mature and logical. I mean, it’s disgusting. Sure you’re there for me whenever I need you, give good advice and will be with me for a lifetime, but when was the last time I got to hold anybody’s hair back or bail someone out of prison? Never! What kind of 20-somethings are you? Sure we have good times, but when have we ever gotten crazy? Like woke up in Denver with matching tattoos of an Indian chief on our asses crazy? Never! I have no tattoos and I’ve never been to Denver and it’s all your fault!
I’m 25 so the 20s are half over. I need to figure this out soon. I feel like I don’t have much time left for the fun part. Yes, I know that’s depressing and possibly silly, but it’s how I feel nonetheless. In two years, I’ll be out of law school, and from what I hear, I’ll be lucky if I ever see sunlight while I’m paying my dues at some ruthless firm. So, fun now, please. For the sake of my 20s and for the sake of my future self, could my mature, self-conscious and knows better side please let go a little and make room for the silly and carefree 20-something that’s got to be in there somewhere? Please? Otherwise, I’m afraid my future mid-life crisis is going to be quite the doozy. And there’s nothing sadder than a 49 year-old woman wandering around Denver with a fresh Indian chief tattoo.
Monday, May 25, 2009
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3 comments:
Dude, i hear ya. The most recent crazy thing I can remember is you and I walking back to the hotel alone, while our guy friends go in search of more alcohol. Of course, watching Marmo fall backward then head-first into the door was rather entertaining. As was his throwing the phone and nearly knocking the lamp over, however, my responsible side kicked in and all i could think was...damn, if he breaks that its my name and credit card on this room. How much is this going to cost me? ~sigh~
You should have been around for my early 20's...I needed someone to hold my hair back WHILE bailing me out of jail.
Amen, SG...AMEN!!
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