My Awkward Life

When I was younger, I used to think my life would be different by the time I turned 31. I thought I would have my shit together by this time. Like the clock would strike midnight, I’m suddenly 30 and somehow life would have fallen into place like magic or something. At 31, life would only get better, like leaving a wine to age in the cellar. Set it and forget it type of thing. Life is not that way and the older I get, the more I realize that most adults you see around you don’t have their shit together, they just look the part. Some do, but most don’t. I’m part of the “Don’t Have It Together” group. Sometimes I think “oh, maybe I shouldn’t eat that” or “maybe I shouldn’t drink this” or “I should probably not smoke that” because maybe one day I’m going to wake up and my life will be everything I thought it would be, everything I thought it should be, and I’ll actually be so happy to be alive. That’s the day I’ll be diagnosed with some disease because of my past habits coming back to bite me in the ass. Today is not one of those days. I’ve been having a time of it lately — trying to find meaning in life. Maybe I should’ve been reckless and gotten pregnant when I was younger so I would have a child to worry about rather than all of this mess and ticking social clocks.

Don’t mind me, just publishing old drafts. (7/25/23)

Dear past me,

It gets better.

Present me