I think I need to blog about this and get over it.
Is it immature to dwell on age? I would stop thinking about it, but it's hard to help when people ask your age at least four times a week. I got asked my age five times yesterday. Five! I always considered that a question for younger kids so you could see their cute responses in the form of fingers and softly muttered digits.
In just 20 days I turn, well, 20.
"Hi, I'm Maggie and I'm 20."
It just sounds so wrong! I mean, just look at me:
As told to me yesterday, "You look like you're twelve!"
I don't mind looking young. It's something I enjoy, actually.... but that's not what this post is about.
This post is about what happens after 20, 21, and 22 --- 23!
23, in my mind, is the beginning of the twenty somethings.
I was first introduced to the twenty somethings in 2007 through my favourite music artist, brilliant English jazz musician, Jamie Cullum.
He opens the song with...
After years of expensive education
A car full of books and anticipation
I'm an expert on Shakespeare and that's a hell of a lot
But the world don't need scholars as much as I thought
Maybe I'll go traveling for a year
Finding myself, or start a career
I could work for the poor, though I'm hungry for fame
We all seem so different but we're just the same
I have to admit I'm frightened of offending any of my twenty something readers - but not too much.
Twenty something - you're just in the middle. Trying to flounder and find your way. Finishing education. Maybe trying to find a mate in the later twenty's. Making your way.
Are there still set goals to strive for or are you finally ground into the rut of routine that life will become?
I guess this is all up to me. I guess I am the one who has the power to keep life out of the rut. Sure, I can get a regular job, but it's up to me to keep things fresh and new. Life doesn't have to become a day to day slide - that's why I started blogging. I started blogging because I didn't want each day to pass without notice. After a what-seemed-dull month I could go back and say, "Hey, dude. You did have a pretty dandy January," or whatever month it is.
Perhaps, in just a few years, I will learn to celebrate from 25 to 29.
But for now I'll be twenty.
Twenty years ancient!