26 February 2013

Life Updates #1: Pending Adulthood....

Adulthood is rushing up at me like a mac truck with the lights on full blast, and I, like the fragile, 22-year old deer in the proverbial headlights- am standing there thinking, If I don't move, maybe it'll see me and go away... 

Just...stay... still... 

I wish.

I became a masters student for two reasons:

  1. I didn't think I could get a job in my field without more training
  2. I wanted to postpone the mac truck. 
One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong. You can't pospone adulthood, and as I'm finding out, I'm becoming mature whether I like it or not. Yeah, I go a little crazy every now and again, and have amazingly fun nights out where I pretend I'm still in undergrad with two more years to go and mummy around the corner to bail me out if it all goes pear-shaped, but I know the truth: mum is 5,000 miles away, and I'll be tried as an adult. 

Because I am one. 

Yeah. I'm a grown up. 

So how do I deal with it? How do I remind myself that life is still worth living even though I'm going to have to pay bills and taxes? See below: 
  1. Remember that you aren't alone. Everyone, and I do mean everyone (unless of course they are a 30 year old wookie-like, beer-gutted weirdo who's overly generous mum is shoving handfuls of cash and instant pasta into his gullet on a rotating basis) has started out where I am right now: a scared, freshly scrubbed, somehow surprisingly twig-like, newly minted adult uselessly attempting to beat off an ever widening abyss of till-point jobs and student loan debt with my flimsy qualifications. 
  2. Never give up. Never surrender. YES. I mean that! You may be an untried, somewhat damp little rookie at this game called life, but by golly man, buck up and give it a go then! And when you've emerged as a proud, shining, bronze plated still mostly untried, somewhat damp little veteran, you can look behind you and see number 3. 
  3. No regrets. You know why? Because at my age, I haven't done anything to damn well regret properly yet. When three divorces, an awkward incident with a Jamaican on a holiday where I'm trying to recover my fading sexuality thanks to menopause and too much brandy, two failed excuses for kids and burning urge to stab someone with a spork and retire to Spain are staring me in the face, then I'll think about regretting something. Maybe. Even then... 
  4. Make lists. Well, that's what this is, and you hopefully feel better for having read it. I know I do for having written it, and at the bottom line, that's what counts. And besides, lists are useful. You can never have to many, and if you forget to do something, you can blame it on the fact that you lost one. 

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