The Too Real, Incredibly Non-Glamorous Life Of A 20-Something

As someone in their mid-twenties who is the epitome of “20 somethings,” I can honestly say that I am living proof that some of us are actually exactly what you’d think. I am unemployed, living with my parents, and I have no idea what I am doing with my life. I’ve got really good goals and dreams, but in order to get what I want I need to have a job to save up money so that I can move back to a real city and do what I want.

I don’t want to sound like a Negative Nancy Botwin here, but there are no opportunities for me in my current city and I need to move on. I’ve been on dozens of job interviews and mostly for jobs that I have no interest in doing. I will do them, but I’m not passionate about them. I am passionate about writing silly content for TV and film and having a good sense of fashion. Those might sound menial to you if that’s not what you’re passionate about, but that’s one of the joys of life. We are different, and we all want different things. I don’t want to be called lazy or stupid because of it. It’s my genetic makeup. I am a ridiculous human being, and that is what I will always be. Lady Gaga would say that I was born this way, and I agree with her. I am not meant to be a receptionist. I tried that once, and I got replaced because the job was so boring that I had to invent ways of entertaining myself. They thought I was fucking weird, and I thought they were incredibly boring. Maybe I am just having another quarter life crisis.

On the subject of quarter life crises, I feel like my entire life is one huge crisis. In the past five years I’ve lived in four different cities in three different states. How many quarter life crises is too many? I’d say one, but in order to make myself feel better I’ll say an infinite number. It’s like each day is a new crisis. I think this comes off as depressing, but it’s not. It’s just something else I have to deal with. To be honest, I kind of enjoy having them. To me it’s a sign of a fresh start. Here I am at rock bottom with not a ton going for me at the moment, and in this moment everything is possible. I can ponder moving to South Africa to feed lions, and it’s actually a possibility. I can do that if I really want to. It’s exciting! And even if it doesn’t work out I’ve got a great story to tell, and I’ll move on to the next adventure. I’ve adopted the theory that in order to find what you want you have to first find out what you don’t want, which is exactly what I’ve been doing with cities, jobs, men, and practically everything else in my life. I’m not sure if it’s the best theory, but it’s certainly not the worst.

So i moved back home, and it is one of the least ideal situations I could ever imagine myself in. It’s not extremely horrible, but sometimes being a drifter and living on street corners sounds better. I love my parents, but we couldn’t be any different from one another. They are extremely religious and conservative, which is fine because that’s what they chose to be, but it makes for an uncomfortable living situation when my views aren’t allowed in the household. And did I mention that alcohol isn’t allowed? My house IS prohibition. I’m no alcoholic, but wine is necessary like 75% of the time. And freedom. Freedom is nice, too.

Throughout all of the rough shit that happens to us, there is still a ton to be grateful for. To be cliché these are some of the best years of our lives. We are strong and will come out of this like heroes and laugh at this whole thing when we’re older in our nursing homes. We will wish that we were still living in an apartment with eight other people that we met on Craigslist, selling our clothes to Buffalo Exchange in order to go out and party each weekend.