What ever happened to the stupidity and free spirited nature of my early twenties?
Fuck, I miss it.
At what point did I wake up and become scared of change? Was it a progessive step over time or did I subliminally anchor down roots and ties after a certain career/relationship/life stage?
I look back at the time when I was eighteen to twenty two and I made some of the worst mistakes during that period. I gained and lost friendships like paper, I tried it all-drugs,sex, mayhem. No regrets. I overhauled my career at least three times. Theatre school dropout, education major failed out, and community college reject. Housewife in training-not for me.
But I wasn't scared to take the steps. I moved places based on the proximity to the ocean, not based on condo prices. I would move based on a relationship, a glossy college pamplet or the dazzle of city lights. I made split second decisions. I zigzagged across this province like Carmen SanDiego.
And in the last five years....I'm just...here. Semi happy, quasi professional, and comfortable. And comfortable can be a ball and chain around your ankle. It's the time of my life where suddenly six months can pass and ....no major changes. Sometimes that's a great thing. Drama is overrated and excitement can just be drama with a prettier dress on. But sometimes I feel the need to break free and have the following conversation in my head...
Wanting Change Side: Why not. I've moved many a times before. And gained. I've learned, and GROWN through it. So how could it be a bad thing? Make the rash decison to move. Go to Australia. Go to Paris. Change your career. Do something to live and feel in a way that you haven't in a long time.
Rational Side: Moving or travelling is expensive and not a decision that is made in a day. I have a good job.
Wanting Change Side: A job that pays well enough to scrape by for the 50 hours a week I put in and the stress I deal with. Is THAT worth it?
Rational Side: I have friends here. I have student loan to pay every month. I have a place. I have a cat. I'm settled.
Wanting Change Side: The cat weighs less than 9 pounds and can be easily moved, items are placed in storage and I do not have a husband. I do not have kids. This is the time of my life where if I wanna up and go I should because maybe (hopefully?) one day in about 5-10 years I'll have those and be able to look back and be happy that I took that 3 month jaunt to Australia or moved to Vancouver/Seattle/London/whereverthefuckiwant.
Rational Side: It's not that easy. It's just not that easy.
So I go back to my day to day motions. Wake up, get the Starbucks coffee, listen to the songs on the radio, go to work, come home, nap, eat dinner, shower, watch tv, rinse and repeat daily. Pay bills, be a good citizen of society and get excited over bands when they come to town, the occasional binger with friends or movie coming out.
I'm scared that at 27 I've pigeonholed myself into a corner and am settling with 'content' rather than 'happy'. And it makes me look at websites or glamourous cities and savour blogs with jet setting lifestyles and think,