Quarter Life Crisis

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS CANNY DEPRESSING

The Quarter Life Crisis that hits in the mid-twenties is surprisingly common I reckon. Think about it: You’re likely to be at the bottom of the career ladder yet the very target audience for a wave of fashion, technology, property, gym memberships and holidays that you can’t afford. You still don’t understand the opposite sex. You’re nostalgic for old friends from school and university – and the lifestyle that you’ll probably never have again. You might be doubting life choices. (Broadcast Journalism? What the hell was I thinking?) You see the same faces in the same places with the same banter.

You have a nagging feeling that everyone else is more financially successful, having amazing sex, on the cutting edge of all that is hip, about to be discovered and hit the big time, marry an oil billionaire or mixing with future Andy Warhols, Jeff Buckleys and Oscar Wildes and you’re not at the party because you dismissed them as ego-centric dickheads. You start finding yourself being attracted to much older people – just because you want them to coo over your tender years.

Oh, and you’re not getting any younger; articles on botox are no longer skipped past, the babies in the street seem to be getting cuter, people you know from middle school are getting married and you can’t summon up the courage to give someone your phone number. You start to resent young celebrities – knowing in your heart of hearts that you’ve missed the boat to have a number one single/win an Oscar/be a FHM High Street Honey.

Depressing indeed. Here are the options people:
* Move to a faraway land and make up a whole new identity – and birth date
* Move back in with the folks and relish being a child again (you know who you are…)
* Get a therapist
* Indulge in drink, drugs, sex and song – fuck the pain away as Peaches wisely instructs
* Get married or knocked up, therefore becoming an official adult
* Develop a stiff upper lip British style and get over it

h

p.s. Would just like to add that I'm not suffering from the above - I have moved thousands of miles away and my new friends think I'm 19 years old. Happy days.