What's My Age Again?

Summer is upon us and I've been thinking about life lately, in particular my age. You see, back in high school or probably even earlier, I always imagined my life to be a certain way by the time I hit twenty-three (and twenty-three is right around the corner). I am not sure why, but in my head this age has always been a mystical milestone. For some reason I have linked a direct correlation with turning twenty-three and becoming an actual adult.

On paper it makes sense. At twenty-three you should be done with or finishing up college. You should have chosen a career path. You should separate your laundry. You should take your vitamins daily. You should wake up before 8:00AM. You should have your crap together. The problem with all of these "shoulds" is the fact that I still feel so freaking young. I'm known to get a little tipsy on more than one night a week. I may or may not consider pretzels and hummus to be a meal. I listen to Justin Bieber and Justin Timberlake often... regularly....ok, daily. My bank account is rarely at a steady balance. And yes, it's true, I don't shower every single day.

I'm reminded of a song by Blink 182 and the lyrics follow: 

And that's about the time she walked away from me

Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three

And I'm still more amused by TV shows

What the hell is A.D.D.?

My friends say I should act my age

What's my age again?

What's my age again?

What is my age? Because right now I am in a limbo of growing up/acting like an "adult" or embracing my "early twenties" and the "YOLO" attitude. 

The problem with the term "adult" is the way we define it. When I think about an adult I imagine someone like my parents. They keep an immaculate household, have great credit scores, and go to work everyday. They're settled, established, and happy. Sometimes I feel as though it will take me another twenty-three years to ever become my mom and dad. However, like my parents and many people in the generation prior, it was normal to get married and purchase a house at an age younger than twenty-three. But since then times have changed. Dramatically. The thought of marriage... owning a home... yikes. 

So where do we draw this imaginary age line? How long does it stay acceptable to be young, renting your house, and consuming Easy-Mac? I have come to the conclusion that labeling this process isn't going to make the growing pains any easier. The truth is, it's all about the balancing act. I'm not the preconceived version of an adult, but I'm not eighteen anymore either. My future depends on these vital, yet young years. My dream career is probably not going to happen at twenty-three, but I'll use this year to move towards it.  

You see, I think it's ok to rush out of the door in the morning to get to work because you hit "snooze" five times. What's important is even though you got ready in five minutes flat, you're going. 

Bottom line- don't rush your life away, but don't waste it away either. Be motivated, but be realistic. I'm still more than likely going to get drunk, but hopefully I remember to schedule the next day for a hangover. I'll go get my annual check ups, but believe it when I say that singing along with one of the Justins is the best medicine ever.

 (And you can't judge me for that last statement. After all, I'm only twenty-three.)