Confessions From Inside a Quarter-Life Crisis

Graduating college was one of my main goals in life, ever since I originally decided I was going to go to college in the first place. I had transferred multiple times, took semesters off here and there, and ran into countless financial and location issues. When the day finally came where I walked across the stage, decked out in my horribly unflattering cap and gown outfit, and received my diploma, I was overjoyed. This was it; this is what I had been working so hard for-my degree. This is what all the sleepless nights in the library, the hours in front of blank word documents, and tears of frustration were for. I had finally graduated college. Now my life could begin.

It has been almost six months since I’ve graduated. I am still a waitress, my student loans are almost out of their grace period, and I’ve heard “Unfortunately, you don’t have the experience necessary for this position” so many times I could actually scream. I just turned twenty-five, I still don’t know how to properly fold a fitted sheet, I only buy milk when I know I have cookies, and I have no idea what the word “GMO” means. Wasn’t I supposed to turn into an adult by now? When I voice that question to basically anyone, the response I get is a haughty chuckle and, “I bet you’re having a quarter-life crisis.” Am I? Is this what a quarter-life crisis is? Let’s take a look:

A normal day for me goes something like this:

I wake up and look over to see my 22-year-old boyfriend snuggling my penguin pillow pet next to me. Ah, what it must feel like to be so young and carefree again. Youth is definitely wasted on the young.

I turn over and grab my phone to see what time it is. It’s dead, of course, because I didn’t think to plug it in before I passed out the night before. While reaching to grab my charger, I knock over the half-full can of Bud Light I have on my bed stand. Why didn’t I drink that last night? Oh, because I was sure I wanted a beer, but then realized I just wanted some juice and to go to sleep. That’s why.

I leave my bedroom to get paper towels and possibly a washcloth. On the way, I’m distracted by the thought of coffee. I should definitely make some coffee now, so I have time to drink it instead of buying Starbucks on my way to work. That would definitely be the most responsible and logical thing to do. I grab the paper towels and some Clorox wipes and completely forget about the coffee.

When I get back into my room to clean up the mess, I realize I’m hungry. I have some things to make for breakfast- some toast and cereal and fruit. All the makings of a healthy and substantial morning meal. If I ate that I would also save money, something I have been trying to do. While thinking about all of this, I send my boyfriend out to get us some breakfast sandwiches and hash browns. Yay, the beer mess is finally cleaned up. It kind of feels like I could use a nap now.

The rest of the day continues on very similarly. I get into work at the restaurant around five pm, venti Starbucks iced coffee in hand, ready to work until two in the morning. I’m definitely not going to drink tonight. I should get home as soon as I can and do some research on how to budget in my student loan payments. I should also get as much sleep as possible so I can wake up and go to the gym the next day.

Later, after taking shots with my co-workers, I come to the conclusion that maybe I am having a quarter-life crisis. I freak out, I tell everyone around me that I’m twenty-five, and then go home to eat Doritos in my bed and stare at my resume for a couple hours.

There you have it. It ain’t pretty, but it’s the truth. Admittedly, I’m very much enjoying myself, crisis or not, so I suppose it could definitely be worse. I’m having fun, while freaking out at the same time. I have no idea what I’m doing, but that also makes me a little bit excited. The more I think about it, the more I think maybe I love this time in my life, regardless of how often it brings tears to my eyes. I’m already looking forward to going through my mid-life crisis. Bring it on, life.

Kaitlyn Seabury | News Cult