So it’s 10 days until my birthday, alright I’m an adult. I mean legally I’ve been an adult for almost a year now and I can do everything in a large number of countries – you know smoke, drink, vote.
But I don’t feel like an adult, I still feel… well I don’t feel like a child either, sure next September, I’ll start paying proper bills and renting my own place, real adult like stuff, but isn’t there meant to be something that makes you feel adult like or something, I thought it would be a little different. But then again when I was a child and I mean a child, I never wanted to get to this point in my life, while my friends admired the adults and were wishing they could be all grown up, I was wishing I would never grow up, while my friends were chatting about the pros of being ‘an adult’ I was noticing all the cons, sure the pros are great and everything, but if I had the choice I’d spent the rest of my natural life reliving my childhood, well up until I hit the double digits that is.
I know that probably sounds all selfish, but I just don’t feel like I’m properly equipped the be adult like, I mean I pretty much know nothing, about living an adult life, sure I can probably imitate it, but inside I’m curled up in the corner, crying my eyes out and sometimes on the inside these days as well, I suppose I’m always going to be that way.
Any ways, I’m just getting all twisted up because I’ve got a whole bunch of work piling up, my plans aren’t working out the way I wanted – the best laid plans, right? – and I’m going to be another year older soon – you would think I was turning 60 the way I’m acting about it.
So my friends coming down next weekend, or at least that’s the plan at the moment. She wants to celebrate our birthdays, since her’s was yesterday and all that jazz. I got her this book, which I think she’ll appreciate; shag yourself slim and a couple small things. I did tell myself that I wasn’t going to celebrate my birthday this year, but it’s quite a few days before and since it’s reading/project week after that, I can still have the slightly depressing birthday I planned – I know planning myself a pity party, if that’s not sad what is? But I haven’t had a proper happy birthday for a while now, I mean I’ve had happy moments and all that jazz, although there was one year, where I thought my family had forgotten, but fortunately for myself they hadn’t.
I’ve been debating on and off recently if I want to stop going for casual relationships and actually have a – more or less – committed one. But there’s a whole bunch of pros and cons to both sides, so I’m still on the fence, as I am with most things I life. But I have met some nice people.
I met a couple new people, at the screening of American Psycho, that the psychology society here had this Friday, there was only five of us there, but it was nice all the same and we had an interesting chat, while we waited for the other people to arrive – and they never did arrive. Honestly I don’t think there’re going to ever get that many people, because it’s on a Friday night, everyone’s going out. I’ve sort of suspended my ‘going out’ because I want it to remain fun and interesting and what not and not become a mundane activity, as basically everyone I’ve talking to about it says it has for them. I don’t want to become one of those people that works all week and then spends all their wages on drinking the weekend away, it’s such a circular life and one I don’t want, so I’m not starting it now. I mean some people seem to come to university and just go crazy, like they’ve never gone out drinking or to clubs in their life, I don’t want to become that either. I know I’ll probably never do anything amazing, earth shatteringly great with my life, but I’ve got to give myself the chance or something along those lines – does that sound conceited? Because that wasn’t what I was going for, I think.