I had a dream last night. A terrifying dream. You can guess what it entailed. I had a dream that I was celebrating my 24th birthday.
I remember it vividly because I used to always joke around with that line from Blink-182's "What's My Age Again"Nobody likes you when you're 23. I remember somebody in my dream was telling me that same line but they looked confused all of a sudden, laughed, and said, "Oh wait, Gina, you're turning 24!" And then I screamed in terror, then woke up with my heart racing.
I don't get it. I'm 23 years old. 23 isn't young enough to mess around, or old enough to turn boring. However, I can slowly find myself turning more and more, I guess, what's the word? I'm not really sure. But I can feel my energy slowly draining, my youth crumbling, and the fact that I don't understand how to do 'adult' stuff, whatever that adult stuff may be. I've had this problem in college, but I realized that while I was in college, I was still just a kid. I still did the usual college kid stuff--the parties, the procrastination, the pot, you name it.
And yet, I still wanted to be somewhat "grownup." I was scared that I wasn't mature enough. Yes, that was it. I was scared that I still wasn't mature enough as a 23 year old. On my 23rd birthday I was terrified because I knew this meant I was getting closer and closer to the dreaded 30's. Your 20s is so important, or so they tell you. They say your 20s is the time to really figure things out, but who's to say there are some people out there who are in their 50s and still don't know how to figure their life out?
I don't know why I try to keep giving my life deadlines, but at this point in my life, I feel like I'm stuck. I'm feeling awkward. I always observe friends and think, "God, you guys are all still stuck in high school." But I see myself doing the same thing. Probably not exactly as the same stuff I did in high school, but more so the way I behave indicates that my mind hasn't fully matured. When does it reach full maturation anyway? Is it ever supposed to? When will I know I have finally grown up?
I want to be something different every single day. One day I'll don one type of persona and the next day I'll long to be another one. There's no in between, or more so maybe it's nothing but in betweens. Of course it is. I'm crazy.
I'm not saying that I want to grow up, but I feel like my problem is that I keep attempting to make rules for myself as to what I think growing up entails. I want to grow up, but at the same time, I don't want to turn boring. But who's to say you have to be boring just because you grow up? You don't need to be boring. You can still go out and do fun things, but I guess you just have to learn to manage your time and still be responsible. But at the same time I physically feel myself turning boring. Everything to me takes too much energy and during the week after work I don't feel like doing anything except not budging from the couch. It takes so much for me to even put on clothes to meet friends.
That leads me to my next point of crisis--my current job. This was literally my dream when I was about 20 years old. I wanted nothing more than to be the next Carrie Bradshaw. I'd pretend I was her, blogging every night from the Internet, gaining a cult following on my old blog. At the current time, I should be stoked. My prayers have been answered. I got the dream job I wanted. I'm working as a freelance writer and a reporter for a magazine in an office. I get to wear business casual suits every day. But why am I not embracing that? Why do I not feel excited to wake up every morning as I thought I would have? Who's to blame? Is my dream faltering? Or is it just the fact that I can't stand my coworkers or my supervisor so it's really bogging down my desires to work at the office? What is it? I still feel young and immature and stupid, due to the several mistakes I make every day at work. Or maybe deep down inside I again am blaming this whole crazy notion that the act of growing up has rules I must abide by.
Bullshit. Nobody told me growing up required rules. My own crazy neurotic mind conjured up those rules. Or so I like to think. Maybe I'm just upset because I'm not being the best Carrie Bradshaw I could be, or that the life of a journalist isn't really as glamorous as I thought it would be.
Maybe I need to go away again. But then again, going away didn't really make me feel as grownup as I thought it would either. I came back from college immature as ever. Right?
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