Waiting

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It dawned on me a few days ago that I would be turning 25 in just a few months. This depressed the hell out of me. The idea of being a quarter of a century year old just doesn’t sit well, sort of like when you eat too much sushi.

It doesn’t help that my life has been somewhat of a train wreck as of late. After the break up with N and finally deciding to go to graduate school, I’ve been trying to get my shit together before I start studying philosophy in a really, really serious way. By getting my shit together, I mean getting some financial ducks in a row, mostly. This has proven far more difficult than I initially thought it would be.

Somewhere down the line, I got old. I don’t mean “old” in the chronological, distance-between-birth-and-now way, but the whole coming-to-terms-with-what’s-expected-of-someone-my-age way. At some point, you eventually realize that there are certain things that are and are not socially acceptable for someone who is almost 25 to do. If you want to remain a respected, well-regarded member of society, you have to really keep these things in mind to avoid being lumped in with the carnies and 40 year olds that make fries at Wendy’s.

Acceptable:

  • think about a career
  • go to bed at a reasonable hour
  • look into buying a house
  • discuss your 401(k) with your acquaintances over beer that everyone is pretending to like because it costs five times more than Natty Lite

Not acceptable:

  • put off deciding on a career by going to school
  • stay up all night reading bad fiction/watching zombie movies
  • ponder moving to Eastern Europe
  • consider the viability of finding a woman 20 years your senior who is financially stable enough to support the aforementioned items on the “not acceptable” list

About a year and a half ago I was on to something. I was just about to graduate, had fantastic visions of becoming a world-renowned cultural critic, and was getting ready to go to throw every ounce of financial and emotional sensibility out the window to go live with my girlfriend in France. I woke up yesterday and found myself frighteningly close to regretting all of that.

What the fuck happened?

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