This post is a little out of the ordinary for me. I’m pretty good at writing self-deprecating one-liners. But I’ve been playing with this feeling for a couple of weeks now. So I’ll give opening up to the internet a shot.
As some of you might know, I recently started my first real job. It’s wonderful and the colleagues are great, but I can’t help feeling somewhat strange about it. I’m on the verge of adulthood, looking back on my childhood, puberty and student years, and I can’t help feeling a sense of loss. Like saying goodbye to mucking about and starting your real life.
That last part, beginning to live, is what keeps me up at night. Sure, I know that technically I started to live 24 years ago when I took my first breath (as a purple, egg-headed dwarf… but that’s another story). But all my life I’ve been looking forward to starting my life.
I thought it might start when I got my first boyfriend, when I graduated high school, went to college, got my masters degree, learnt how to drive or when I got my first job. Now, three paychecks have passed and I’m still waiting for my life to begin.
I have a tendency towards stalling gratification. Like I promised myself a tattoo I’ve been wanting for years. First I promised to get one after I lost a certain amount of weight, then after I graduated, then my drivers permit, then my first job… Needless to say I still feel like I haven’t earned it.
My life isn’t going to start after I drop a couple of pant sizes, get a job or a house even. It might feel that way for me right now. But if I keep waiting for my life to begin, one day I’ll be 90 and wondering where it went.
I might be alone in this. But if any of you made it through the small novel I just wrote: “Have you ever felt like this? And how have you dealt with it?” I’m curious to hear your opinion on this.