It never dawned on me during my youth that I wouldn’t get exactly what I wanted when I wanted it. I feel like I have accomplished so little in my 32 years. Scratch that. I feel like I have not accomplished anything I wanted to accomplish in 32 years. I didn’t think at 32 I would still be single, still be childless, still be homeless, still be without my dream car, and still be wondering what in the hell I was going to do with my life. They say the 30s are the new 20s. The babyboomers strike again: attempting to extend their ‘youth.’ No the 30s are the 30s. You should be working and starting your family. Youthful pursuits are laid to rest and you begin to contribute to society monetarily, socially, and through volunteerism. You’re insides are rotting at the same rate as they were when the 50 wasn’t the new 40. My eggs are old. 32 years old to be exact, not ripe and healthy as they were 10 years ago. My eggs are No-yolks. Many will say I sound very ungrateful. I have a top-notch legal education, a fulfilling job, and a nice place to live. But, I’m just disillusioned about where I thought I would be by now. John Mayer called what I’m having a “quarter-life” crisis. I’m 32 and there are so many realizations that are coming to my mind. You are not guaranteed an “ideal” life if you work hard and go to school. You are not guaranteed a happy marriage if you have a good job and are a responsible, decent adult. You’re not guaranteed a good life at all. Nothing you do guarantees anything. Working hard does not even guarantee money.
Oh, I’m bitter today. Things will be different tomorrow. Just in a bad, bad, bad mood right now.
1 comment:
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