The Ins and Outs of a Quarter Life Crisis
I am now 23 years old. It has been 10 years since I was 13. This, to me, is strange.
When I was 13, I thought I had everything figured out. I felt almost certain that when I was 23, I would be living in New York City, and spending my time writing a novel and dating various rock and roll infused men. I would wear loads of black and be intense and be fashionably bohemian. And as soon as I wasn't happy with it, I would just leave it all, and run off to somewhere else.
In the ten years since, I have learned that that is not wholly possible. You can't make a living writing novels and wearing black, and rent money does not fall out of the sky. So you have to work. And rock and roll guys are poor and kind of smell, so you should try to be with someone who has some sort of future that doesn't involve the smell of Jack Daniels or the threat of emulating Ozzy.
And it is sad that that is not wholly possible, because I still want to do nothing but write, and working really really sucks, let me tell you. I think it will get better once we get rid of some dead weight around here, but still. I don't know what to do. I could try and find a new job, but the fact I have only been here for two months would probably look pretty shitty for me. Plus, it is my understanding that there is no perfect job, that they all pretty much suck.
I just want to hide in a hole and hope the world changes by the time I emerge.
I am not someone who I would have proud of at age 13. I have let the retrieval of "things" get in the way of what I really want to do. That, and it seems that I do not even know how to do the thing that I really want to do. I don't know whether to sign up for grad school, or just try to sit on my ass and write or what. I am clueless.
Plus, there are lots of other things that I would like to try, but that I am afraid would end up crappy as well. I have thought about teaching. I want to do something that means I am helping someone. I don't know.
So, anyway, the moral of the story is, I am sad and I don't know what to do with my life.
On the plus side of things, I had a good birthday, and got to eat French food. So that's a plus.
Have a good un!
When I was 13, I thought I had everything figured out. I felt almost certain that when I was 23, I would be living in New York City, and spending my time writing a novel and dating various rock and roll infused men. I would wear loads of black and be intense and be fashionably bohemian. And as soon as I wasn't happy with it, I would just leave it all, and run off to somewhere else.
In the ten years since, I have learned that that is not wholly possible. You can't make a living writing novels and wearing black, and rent money does not fall out of the sky. So you have to work. And rock and roll guys are poor and kind of smell, so you should try to be with someone who has some sort of future that doesn't involve the smell of Jack Daniels or the threat of emulating Ozzy.
And it is sad that that is not wholly possible, because I still want to do nothing but write, and working really really sucks, let me tell you. I think it will get better once we get rid of some dead weight around here, but still. I don't know what to do. I could try and find a new job, but the fact I have only been here for two months would probably look pretty shitty for me. Plus, it is my understanding that there is no perfect job, that they all pretty much suck.
I just want to hide in a hole and hope the world changes by the time I emerge.
I am not someone who I would have proud of at age 13. I have let the retrieval of "things" get in the way of what I really want to do. That, and it seems that I do not even know how to do the thing that I really want to do. I don't know whether to sign up for grad school, or just try to sit on my ass and write or what. I am clueless.
Plus, there are lots of other things that I would like to try, but that I am afraid would end up crappy as well. I have thought about teaching. I want to do something that means I am helping someone. I don't know.
So, anyway, the moral of the story is, I am sad and I don't know what to do with my life.
On the plus side of things, I had a good birthday, and got to eat French food. So that's a plus.
Have a good un!
posted by Southern Belle at 1:17 PM
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