I suppose I’m not the only twenty-something who feels like this. Stuck. Complacent. Content. Unsure; a mix of words and feelings that don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand. No longer a Recent College Graduate, but still very much navigating PGL (Post-Grad Life, is what the kids are calling it these days). No longer “new” to Boston, but still very much discovering, exploring and growing comfortable in my new home. Independent in the sense that I’m fully capable of lifting my own air conditioner unit and securing it safely (I think) in my bedroom window. Not very independent at all in the sense that I am fully dependent on trains, planes and (my brothers) automobile to move me from Point A to Point B. My job is no longer as glamorous as it once seemed and that New Car Scent-effect that my neighborhood once deceivingly emitted has been replaced by an overpowering stench of garbage, because in Brighton, as it turns out, every day is trash pick-up day.
On weekends I hang out with my parents because they were smart enough to know that a beach house would keep their children close. Although, I’m not so sure how much they welcome the dinner-seeking, laundry-toting visits from yours truly, as of late. When people ask me what I do in my free time, I have no idea what to tell them. I’d like to say something interesting like hike, travel or throw pottery, even running sounds interesting enough. Truthfully, with the under five hours (on a good day) that I’m allotted between leaving the office and crawling into bed at a reasonable hour, I’m nursing my indoor cycling addiction (in a tireless attempt to drop my “college beer weight”), painting my nails in Essie’s newest hue, catching up on The Bachelor, washing an always present pile of dirty dishes or waiting in an obscenely long line of fellow twenty-something’s at Trader Joe’s. None of this exciting, none of it interesting and the Bachelor bit, quite embarrassing to admit. I’m busy, sure but busy doing what, I’m not exactly sure.
Life lately is a balancing act, but isn’t it always? An attempt to nail down a solid “routine”, one that involves doing something productive with the early hours of each day and checking off items on a never ending to-do list by night; pay electricity bill, wash bed sheets, send wedding rsvp; #adulting.
I guess this can only be described in one way; my Twenties. And I guess that means I’m not the only one feeling this funk. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I should note, this feeling includes the fun stuff, too. The unpredictable nights with new friends and the predictable nights with old friends, the work perks, the beach days, the freedom of living on my own, the decline of catty girl-drama and boyfriends, tests, exams and papers. It’s all clumped together, in this very weird, very wonderful way. The world at our fingertips. Each moment, each new experience, mixed together to make up this very ambiguous thing that we call our Twenties. A time in which we, at least I’m assuming we and hoping we, keep plugging along, taking each thing as it comes, never really knowing what happens next, never really knowing just how to react, what to do now, what to say when.
But the thing is we do keep plugging along. We do get by; sometimes tragically and most times triumphantly. We surprise ourselves. We install our own air conditioner units and we learn the importance of a 401k and the daunting task that is “doing taxes”. We grow, we adjust, we change. We move quickly, so quickly, without even realizing it. There is so much to accomplish, so much to become. Sometimes I feel like I’m running from something, running towards something, and all the while standing very, completely still. We keep going. We figure it out. Our Twenties, it seems, while weird and wonderful, are the most integral part in getting us to wherever we’re going. And maybe that explains why they’re so very weird and so very wonderful all at once.
So make them count.