Reality Bites- The Quarter-Life Crisis.

realitybites Hello readers,

I haven’t been very consistent with my posting for this month. I’ve had a lot on my plate and then all of a sudden, I found myself at 25. I know this age may not seem much to those who are in their thirties. I’m sure when I reach thirty, I will crave the carefree youth that I enjoy today…whatever that means. But one can only experience life in the present and presently, I’m freaking out about the fact that it is the last year I can call myself a young adult.

People in their late twenties, you know what I mean! The quarter-life crisis. The stage in your life when half your friends have babies and other half are still living the “wild ’20s” dream.

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The ‘Quarter-Life Crisis’ seen here.

Young adult. The age title meant so much to me when I was 18 because I could finally legally do things that I only did illegally dreamt about. Apart from that, because I was a raging youth with hardly any responsibilities, I didn’t have to apologize for any crazy shenanigans I did. You were supposed to be young, stupid and reckless when you were at that age.

But uh...only moderately so.

But uh…only moderately so.

Did this happen? Not exactly. I, like many others was a college kid. But that’s it. Most of my time was dedicated to studying. Celebrating birthdays or just simply hanging out with friends consisted of small outings, where I would have to return home at a certain time completely sober or tipsy enough to get away with looking sober.

I feared looking like this in front of my parents every time.

I feared looking like this in front of my parents every time.

So now that I’m completely comfortable discussing my favourite flavour of vodka to my parents, I’m already half-way into my 20s with not many stories to share with my future kids. Let’s think about it, people. If your kids have already labelled you lame by default, your stories of staying up all night to finish studying for that Media Ethics test won’t get you ‘cool’ points.

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While I lamented to everyone within listening ear that my 20s were running away faster than the roadrunner, it was pointed out that I could still have those ‘wild nights’ I wanted before the ‘baby bug’ (I think you normal people call it motherly instinct?) sets in. Age was only a number and maybe since I knew better, I could have my fun and not regret it the morning after.

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Valid point.

Besides, a lot can happen in five years. And I have already done things that, in high school, I never thought I was capable of doing. So, for all those who are still legally single and 25, it is not the end of the world and  we need to stop people-watching. Sure, we have friends who are married and have children; on Facebook, they look like they have everything sorted out and could die happy the next day.

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But we’re positive they can’t have that impromptu road trip.

We’re positive they can’t have the girls’/boys’ night out we regularly go to every Friday.

We’re positive their bills are higher.

And we’re positive those babies are synonymous to insomnia.

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It’s when our lady/gentleman bits start sagging, then we worry.


Enjoy the rest of your week, readers!

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