So, it's ok...

...that I often have to remind myself, I'm ONLY 22!

Every morning, at the very moment I open my eyes, I ask myself how I've let my life become so disorganised. And if it really is ok that I still live with my parents, have no money and generally don't leave my bedroom before midday. Generally speaking, these are the 6 things that pop into my head before I've had my cup of tea...

1/ Life is fleeting. Months keep passing me by, and I barely notice.

2/ There are lots of things I'm unsure of, and I don't know how to move on to the next stages of my life.

3/ A lot of my friends seem to have their lives organised - but mine only becomes more chaotic every day.

4/ I'm ambitious. But terrified of not achieving those things I want.
5/ I feel old before I'm meant to be - my idea of fun is tea and book based.
6/ CAREER! CAREER! CAREER!

Number six is the definite clincher.

These things became even more real to me when I cut down my hours at the restaurant - "But what are you going to do with all that time?", my manager said to me. It was a terrifying question. But I told myself, at no other time in my life will I get away with being so disorganised and unreliable, and I have so many years ahead of me to worry about all the other stuff that it would be silly to get bogged down in it now. These are my frivolous years of self discovery.

I recently decided I'm only going to focus on what I enjoy and experiment with all the different things I know I can be good at, and things I have yet to learn to be good at. I've been reading, blogging, watching films, rekindling old friendships (and new!), going to the theatre, hanging out with my younger sister and finding some 'me' time at last. Probably the most important thing is that I have finally committed myself fully to writing a novel, something that's been on the cards since I was a teenager. By my 23rd birthday (March 8th 2014), I want at least half of a book written, if not more! Failing that, I will put it on the back bench and (somehow) find myself a different career. Harsh, but necessary. I won't be admitting defeat, but I will be admitting that it's not right now. 

So I'm going to be a bit poor from now on, and I'll probably end up living with my parents a little longer. But it's ok if I like putting my pyjamas on at 7pm, can only afford to buy all of my clothes off of EBay and my idea of a career is writing character outlines and plot summaries from my bed, because after all, I'm only 22.

So, here I am. A self-certified, happy-as-larry, twenty something mess. And I love it.

Laurie