I Thought I'd Feel Older By Now

I really thought I’d feel more serious by now.

Like 30 is getting close enough that I can see it from here.

And I always assumed by this point something would have happened.

You’d have a doctor you actually go to.

You’d understand taxes.

You’d own matching towels.

Something.

Instead you’re basically the exact same person.

You just have better taste and your neck hurts.

What the fuck.

THIRTY USED TO HAVE A HOUSE

That’s the problem.

When we were kids, 30-year-olds seemed incredibly established.

Thirty had a dining table.

Thirty had children.

Thirty had a mortgage.

Thirty had one of those cabinets full of glasses nobody was allowed to use.

And now we’re getting close enough to realize…

Oh.

Nobody’s coming to install that.

The milestones are still around.

They’re just all over the fucking place.

Someone got married at 25.

Someone is 31 with three roommates.

Someone has two kids.

Someone just moved home.

Someone bought a house.

Someone has no savings but somehow spent August in Ibiza.

And all of these people are basically the same age.

Okay???

THAT’S PROBABLY WHAT’S WITH US

At 21, everyone was doing basically the same thing badly.

We were broke.

Someone had a horrible apartment.

Everyone was dating someone they shouldn’t have been dating.

Simple.

Now you open Instagram and one person is posting an ultrasound.

Next story, someone’s in Berghain.

Then an engagement.

Then business class.

Then someone bought a fucking kitchen.

Not a house.

Just the kitchen.

And somehow every single one makes you briefly question your own life.

Should I have a baby?

Should I move to Berlin?

Do I need better countertops?

I don’t even want countertops.

That’s the insane part.

You can be completely happy with your life and then watch someone else live differently for twelve seconds and be like…

Wait.

Should I be doing that?

No.

Probably not.

Anyway.

AND APPARENTLY THIS IS ALREADY ADULTHOOD

I think I always assumed the real version started later.

The apartment at 23 was temporary.

That job was temporary.

That relationship might be temporary.

Everything was sort of a draft.

Then somewhere in your late 20s you start looking around and realizing some of this stuff isn’t the before picture anymore.

This is my apartment.

These are my friends.

This is what I do.

This is my actual Tuesday.

Oh.

Nobody let me know.

ALSO, OUR PARENTS WERE AROUND THIS AGE

Horrible information.

Because what do you mean our parents were around here making decisions we still talk about in therapy?

Having children.

Moving across the country.

Buying houses.

Meanwhile I’ve had “Set up primary care” in my notes app since June.

But the older you get, the more obvious it becomes that they probably didn’t feel particularly adult either.

They were just people.

They didn’t know what the fuck they were doing.

They just didn’t have Instagram showing them some hotter 29-year-old doing it differently.

Lucky.

SO MAYBE 30 ISN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING

That’s my current suspicion.

I pay my bills.

I make appointments.

I have opinions about olive oil now.

Things are progressing.

But I can also still end up smoking a cigarette outside a bar at 1 a.m. knowing fully well someone at this table has work in seven hours.

Sorry.

Maybe there isn’t some giant personality update coming.

Maybe you just keep becoming slightly more capable while remaining, unfortunately, yourself.

Which is fine.

I like being young!

I’m excited to get older!

I’m just starting to suspect it’s going to happen without me noticing.

Anyway.

You should go home.

You have work tomorrow.