Recent events, i.e. friends turning 30, have forced me to face my own twenty-hood mortality. In five months I will be staring at the third decade of my life, a possible mid-point of my existence. Thirty is the point where people begin expecting things like responsibility, grown-up behavior and even worse yet - stability with a life plan.
I can't tell you how many times people look at me and say, "30? No kids? No husband?" Like that's a bad thing. Are you kidding me? Thinking about that type of commitment gives me anxiety. I can't commit to one shampoo, let alone a husband and 2.5 kids that would depend on me. That doesn't make me weird or a spinster. That makes me completely selfish, and I'm okay with that - because it's true.
Right now my life plan does not include settling down. It includes living paycheck to paycheck, working at a job that may, or may not get me anywhere - and doing whatever the hell I want. And the latter trumps all. Truth is I don't want to grow up. I have a Peter Pan Complex - and it's not an addiction to peanut butter.
I like video games. My Xbox is fun. In my world I can kick Tiger's ass by shooting 70 at Pebble Beach on Monday, and trade half my NHL team on Wednesday because they can’t hit the net.
I like laying around watching ESPN all day. I de-stress by writing about 500 miles of nothing but left turns. I listen to hockey - on the radio. I love sports talk radio – Candadian sports talk radio.
I have a bucket list that includes covering every race on a 38 week schedule and seeing at least one live NHL game in the U.S (and one in Canada). I want to go to the Indy 500 again - I want to go to a Final Four. I want to land at every major U.S. airport, I want to see the ocean and I want to take a cross country road trip just because I can.
Sure, I sometimes think about my 2.99 decades of existence and wonder what exactly I've managed to accomplish. I have accomplished some things, but not enough. I compare myself to others my age (some younger) and wonder just how in the hell they have their life together. They’re married, or have kids and live in the burbs while I long to get to a city and experience culture.
I’ll admit there was a time when I was 21 or 22 when I thought I had a handle on life, but it snapped into dozens of pieces. They couldn’t make enough duct tape to fix it and I was forced to go out and get a new handle. This handle is different, but the comfort level is slowly getting there. Like all good tooks it takes time to get them broke in.
That being said, I'm boycotting 30.
1 comment:
Don't boycott 30...its really not that bad. That's why I threw myself a party! Embrace it and think of it as a chance to continue doing the things you want to do, and living the life you want to lead. The nay-sayers be damned! Lovies, ALB
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