25

I feel the need to get a little serious for a moment.

It is very easy for me to forget my age. It’s not intentional, it’s just that it never really mattered that much to me. Aside from turning 21 and being able to legally buy alcohol, each birthday has just meant adding a new digit to the age box. I don’t really fear getting older, though I do want to enjoy the selfish, young years while I still can. And I am pretty sure I’ll always be a little goofy and crazy and never really grow up.

But let’s be honest. 25 is a rough time. Maybe every age is rough in it’s own way…but 25 has this certain…extra hump to tackle.

The thing is, I am smack dab in the middle of my 20s. When I turned 20, I was still in college. I still had a couple of years to go. I still had classes to schedule, papers to write, presentations to prepare, parties to go to on the weekend. Things weren’t 100% set in stone, but I knew what the next couple years of my life would look like. I went into my 20s knowing what to expect for the next few years, and I was totally coddled by those expectations and ideals. I was just another college student doing collegiate and crazy things.

When I graduated college, I felt a huge gap open in my life. I was only working part-time at Blockbuster Video (remember that popular video chain that used to be everywhere but is now a world wonder if you can find an open one?), with no actual idea what I wanted to really do in my life. I suppose I never knew. I chose Mass Communications as my major because a) I knew it would interest me and b) it was the only major with careers attached to it that I could possibly see myself doing. I always loved writing, talking, creating…but I didn’t nail a specific thing to focus on, so my education was for naught. I don’t regret going to college but I don’t know if it really helped me in an economical way. During that post-grad summer, I spent a lot of time in my pink fluffy robe, watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall an embarrassing amount of times, refusing to eat most of the time, and lamenting over my loneliness and lack of direction in life.

When I got the job I have now (it’s been nearly 3 years, oy), I was excited to be one of the first people I knew to get a full-time gig with health insurance and benefits. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything I ever studied in my life or anything I’ve ever wanted to do, but it was something I thought about doing for a little while and it happened to fall in my lap. Now, I just can’t get it out of my lap. Or get out of it’s lap?
I don’t know.

Slowly but surely, my friends all got jobs, careers even (I am surrounded by graphic designers and teachers…why is that my main group of friends? Not that it matters, I love y’all.), made enough money to move out of the house or out of the town or made something different of themselves. Meanwhile, I am still sleeping in the bed I got when I was 13 in a sloppy bedroom I don’t really care to clean cuz I’d rather just move out, under my parents’ roof, with family arguments and debates over bathroom and laundry time. If you asked me at the beginning of my 20s if I thought I’d still be here at age 25…I’d have said no. But I wouldn’t have had a better answer for you either.

To top it all off, more and more people are popping up engaged or married. I’m super-happy for these people, but I don’t plan on getting married anytime super soon. I want to, and I can see it being a thing in the future, but I don’t want to do that until I’m financially stable and more comfortable in life…and I haven’t the slightest idea when that might be.
I don’t even know how I’ll react when my first pregnant friend comes forward. I may go catatonic for a few days.

I can’t help but feel completely lost at this point in time. I’m not sure what I want to be. I don’t make enough money to drive a car other than my ‘93 Buick, to move out of my parents’ house, to even pay a little extra on the bills I owe. I just want to be financially stable. I know with more money comes more responsibility. I don’t expect to ever be rich or have everything I want (I wouldn’t know what that would be anyway), but I certainly don’t want to be 30 years old and still at home. Lord save me if that happens.

Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of good things in my life. I’m lucky my parents allow me to stay in their house without paying rent (just make them a yummy dinner every Thursday…small price to pay). I’m lucky to have a wonderful boyfriend who is also my best friend. I’m lucky to have amazing friends who accept me for the crazy gal I am. I have a good life when you take away all the “important” things.

I don’t know what the point of this rambling is.

I know I’m the one who has to make choices and take action. Nothing will happen unless I do this.
I guess I just wanted to share how I feel.

In case I’m not alone.
I hope I’m not alone.