My Quarter-Life Crisis
On the eve of my quarter-life crisis (seven days until age 25):
As I chatted with my oldest and bestest friend Chels while driving home tonight, I noted the topics we touched upon. Superbowl, our parents and siblings of course, the notion of "college envy." We talked about our finances, the imperative-yet-impossibleness of saving money, and our constantly teetering living situations. I envy her current downtown apartment, with gorgeous skyline view and desert-weathered patio... she reassured me of the wisdom behind my current situation: living at home rent free with Mom and Dad. It's just for now; at first it was intended to be "just for six months," and it would also make a lot of sense for it to be "just for this year" while happy and thriving at my current workplace - a twenty-minute commute away.
We then discussed our impending dream destinations: #1 being Hawaii for Chels's sister's wedding, where she'll be a guaranteed guest as MOH and I, her hopeful plus-one. #2 is the Mediterranean; Greece, accompanied by Italy, to be specific. At first, the idea of a 20th-anniversary trip abroad sounded flawless and imminent. As time and life and surprises have come along though, it is sounding increasingly practical to wait, to save up more, to schedule it after the aforementioned event of the season (slated as an October wedding), and to delay until Cory - hell, the both of us - know what she's doing with her life.
Sometimes, I feel that I'm living the cliche of the employed twenty-something (a cliche that, mind you, I hate even referencing - since the existence of a cliche indicates some generalized yet unanimously recognized reality). I have a job with a great, financially-stable [to say the least] company... in none other than the technology industry. I have my own health benefits and I make enough to pay my student loan and car lease payments each month; yet, I live at home - partially due to the expensive nature of LA, partially thanks to my healthy relationship with my formerly empty-nesting parents, and fully due to my indecisiveness regarding where else I belong in the world.
My life is flooded with popular culture. My current favorite television shows are always a toss up between about four primetime dramas - centered around powerful women with glamorous jobs and an ulterior motive - along with some reality show that stars a despicable yet sympathetic hunk like Juan Pablo (the current Bachelor). I can't find a book that will keep my interest for more than a week, yet my nightstand(s) tower with twenty-something-targeted non-fiction, biographies, how-to's and travel memoirs. It's like there are too many to know with which to start... without becoming extremely overwhelmed. Currently being attempted: Lonely Planet's Travel Writing and In a Sunburnt Country by Bill Bryson.
I recently ended things with the non-boyfriend whom I was apparently never officially dating. Despite the blow to my pride and unavoidable sadness that accompanies an ending, I've thrived this past week by focusing on the more positive emotions. I chose to feel accomplished - for standing up for how I felt - and fearless. I let my accomplishment act contagiously, and ran more consistently these past two weeks than I've exercised since high school. I chose to feel relieved: that I sought some closure, that the late night texts have stopped... and that it happened now rather than later and further down the road to heartache. I've chosen to feel liberated, more centered, and committed to focusing on my own, personal health. The last thing I need in this season of my otherwise uncertain personal life (yet exciting, learning-filled phase of my professional life) is the distraction of a man who doesn't choose to return my affection or commitment. These past two weeks I ran faster, I sang louder and I smiled wider because I didn't waste my energy on tears or any other bodily fluids, thank you very much.
Finally, there's that thing I've dubbed "college envy." Tonight over snacks and the Superbowl, I sat in my younger sister's living room surrounded by early twenty-somethings in both undergrad and grad school. They chatted about classes, their students (since they're mostly aspiring teachers), their S.O.s and all of their local spots. I had so much fun, but I also found myself feeling an odd nostalgia: one that placed my closest college friends' faces around the same circle, and made me think of late nights in the glow of our laptops circa 2011. Back in those days of term papers and all-nighters, it was so much more effortless: with friends in close proximity, plus work and activities at all hours of the day. We each had a purpose, and most of us shared a common goal; we also called the same place (or university, in our case) home.
Since graduating and moving at slightly different angles in the direction of our dreams, we've had experiences and hit road-bumps that I wouldn't wish away could I travel back in time. We've lived independently, made different strides and failures financially (see: parking tickets in Los Angeles). We've tried and tasted relationships; we've moved, we've transferred and, for most of us, we've been promoted. I know I speak for my closest confidantes when I say that we're still in search of the ideal, the dream job and the perfect combination of it all. I'm still creating the life I want to lead. At almost-25, while I'm hopeful, all of the uncertainty and the endless possibility can feel stifling. It's not a lack of options; it's paralysis induced the by fear of choosing the wrong one of so, so many.
I know that I am blessed to have such a dilemma. So until the time is right, we all will post and tweet inspiration quotes, mount vision boards on our bedroom walls, and attempt DIY projects that we discreetly stole from Pinterest in order to seek some sense of order or belonging in this hazy phase of our young adult lives. As John Mayer put it,
It might be a quarter-life crisis/
or just a stirring in my soul.
As I chatted with my oldest and bestest friend Chels while driving home tonight, I noted the topics we touched upon. Superbowl, our parents and siblings of course, the notion of "college envy." We talked about our finances, the imperative-yet-impossibleness of saving money, and our constantly teetering living situations. I envy her current downtown apartment, with gorgeous skyline view and desert-weathered patio... she reassured me of the wisdom behind my current situation: living at home rent free with Mom and Dad. It's just for now; at first it was intended to be "just for six months," and it would also make a lot of sense for it to be "just for this year" while happy and thriving at my current workplace - a twenty-minute commute away.
We then discussed our impending dream destinations: #1 being Hawaii for Chels's sister's wedding, where she'll be a guaranteed guest as MOH and I, her hopeful plus-one. #2 is the Mediterranean; Greece, accompanied by Italy, to be specific. At first, the idea of a 20th-anniversary trip abroad sounded flawless and imminent. As time and life and surprises have come along though, it is sounding increasingly practical to wait, to save up more, to schedule it after the aforementioned event of the season (slated as an October wedding), and to delay until Cory - hell, the both of us - know what she's doing with her life.
Sometimes, I feel that I'm living the cliche of the employed twenty-something (a cliche that, mind you, I hate even referencing - since the existence of a cliche indicates some generalized yet unanimously recognized reality). I have a job with a great, financially-stable [to say the least] company... in none other than the technology industry. I have my own health benefits and I make enough to pay my student loan and car lease payments each month; yet, I live at home - partially due to the expensive nature of LA, partially thanks to my healthy relationship with my formerly empty-nesting parents, and fully due to my indecisiveness regarding where else I belong in the world.
My life is flooded with popular culture. My current favorite television shows are always a toss up between about four primetime dramas - centered around powerful women with glamorous jobs and an ulterior motive - along with some reality show that stars a despicable yet sympathetic hunk like Juan Pablo (the current Bachelor). I can't find a book that will keep my interest for more than a week, yet my nightstand(s) tower with twenty-something-targeted non-fiction, biographies, how-to's and travel memoirs. It's like there are too many to know with which to start... without becoming extremely overwhelmed. Currently being attempted: Lonely Planet's Travel Writing and In a Sunburnt Country by Bill Bryson.
I recently ended things with the non-boyfriend whom I was apparently never officially dating. Despite the blow to my pride and unavoidable sadness that accompanies an ending, I've thrived this past week by focusing on the more positive emotions. I chose to feel accomplished - for standing up for how I felt - and fearless. I let my accomplishment act contagiously, and ran more consistently these past two weeks than I've exercised since high school. I chose to feel relieved: that I sought some closure, that the late night texts have stopped... and that it happened now rather than later and further down the road to heartache. I've chosen to feel liberated, more centered, and committed to focusing on my own, personal health. The last thing I need in this season of my otherwise uncertain personal life (yet exciting, learning-filled phase of my professional life) is the distraction of a man who doesn't choose to return my affection or commitment. These past two weeks I ran faster, I sang louder and I smiled wider because I didn't waste my energy on tears or any other bodily fluids, thank you very much.
Finally, there's that thing I've dubbed "college envy." Tonight over snacks and the Superbowl, I sat in my younger sister's living room surrounded by early twenty-somethings in both undergrad and grad school. They chatted about classes, their students (since they're mostly aspiring teachers), their S.O.s and all of their local spots. I had so much fun, but I also found myself feeling an odd nostalgia: one that placed my closest college friends' faces around the same circle, and made me think of late nights in the glow of our laptops circa 2011. Back in those days of term papers and all-nighters, it was so much more effortless: with friends in close proximity, plus work and activities at all hours of the day. We each had a purpose, and most of us shared a common goal; we also called the same place (or university, in our case) home.
Since graduating and moving at slightly different angles in the direction of our dreams, we've had experiences and hit road-bumps that I wouldn't wish away could I travel back in time. We've lived independently, made different strides and failures financially (see: parking tickets in Los Angeles). We've tried and tasted relationships; we've moved, we've transferred and, for most of us, we've been promoted. I know I speak for my closest confidantes when I say that we're still in search of the ideal, the dream job and the perfect combination of it all. I'm still creating the life I want to lead. At almost-25, while I'm hopeful, all of the uncertainty and the endless possibility can feel stifling. It's not a lack of options; it's paralysis induced the by fear of choosing the wrong one of so, so many.
I know that I am blessed to have such a dilemma. So until the time is right, we all will post and tweet inspiration quotes, mount vision boards on our bedroom walls, and attempt DIY projects that we discreetly stole from Pinterest in order to seek some sense of order or belonging in this hazy phase of our young adult lives. As John Mayer put it,
It might be a quarter-life crisis/
or just a stirring in my soul.
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