My twenty-third birthday is coming up in December. I have such mixed feelings about this. I’ve refused to even celebrate or mention my birthday this year. I’m single. Living with my parents working a min wage job and haven’t finished college. Sure, I’ve applied and should know soon but it’s still the unknown. If there’s one thing you need to know about me is I fucking HATE the unknown. I’m a planner. I over think and plan everything and anything. From moving a lamp two inches to what a possible conversation could be.
By 23 you are apparently supposed to have some insane life plan and have a boyfriend and have a wonderful life in the works. I have a twin size bed and a pretty good wardrobe. Thank God I live with my parents, who have fuelled my old life style of the three S’s. Shopping, Starbucks & Shots. Blink 182 nailed it with that song (& title of the post) “What’s My Age Again”.
Let’s think about this. Everyone tells us our 20’s are our fun years. I was beyond stoked to turn 22 plus Taylor came out with a song that same year. I can’t even lie, I still blast it and when I saw her on the Red Tour in June and sang it at the top of my lungs like it was the last thing I’d ever sing. Being 22, I think I’ve learned a lot. But this whole 23 thing. It’s like being 22 is the last year I can get away with being stupid.
If you’re in your early 20’s, live it up. Dance. Fall in love. Get a tattoo. Skip that 6 am workout. Love yourself. If you’re in the same boat as me.. Do you. Be selfish. Don’t go out. Have that dessert and don’t put a stupid amount of pressure on yourself cause that’s when you get the most screwed up.
