LISTED

A few days ago, as I was leisurely whiling away the hours perusing Facebook, I was unexpectedly faced with a rather unsettling conundrum.  I was suddenly notably aware of my life plan, and the actuality that I don’t, in fact, have one.

The realisation was forced upon me when an old school friend made the announcement that he and his girlfriend were expecting their first child.  Suddenly I felt like the kid that just couldn’t master the egg and spoon race at sports day, clumsily navigating across the grass to a chorus of sympathetic encouragement from bored adults fed up of waiting for me to catch on. 

When I was at school, my friends and I used to talk about what age we were going accomplish certain milestones and expectations.  Marriage, children, dream jobs, meeting Hanson.

In my life list, initially marriage came at 24,  by which time, naturally, I would have snared my dream job and procured a modest, yet nonetheless comfortable, abode. This gives me 12 months max., and with no Prince Charming to speak of as yet, I think I’m due an appraisal.

When I asked a close friend recently whether she still kept a list, she responded with a concise and definitive plan through her twenties, culminating in a successful marriage, career and, of course, the obligatory 2.4 children. 

In addition to my friend’s alarming revelation, I attended the wedding of some friends for the first time at the end of last year.  Yes, my friends.  Getting married.  Pledging their lives to one another forever.  I can barely commit to a hairstyle in the long-term, let alone another person with all their habits and complications.

When I was young, 24 seemed so old.  24-year-olds were sorted, they had jobs, houses, friends, partners.  They are not kids or teenagers, they’re adults, and adults always have it together, right?

Wrong.  Well, it is in my case at least.

Twelve months ago, as I watched the clock strike 5pm, I took a familiar sigh of relief.  The fourth sigh of relief of its kind that week, actually.  For today was Thursday. 

Working a nine to five desk job that is neither fulfilling nor financially rewarding can really get on your bloody nerves, actually.  Post University, I had embarked upon the career ladder with gusto, bursting onto the scene brandishing my new title like top prize at the cattle fair.  For I was to be the NEW Sales Co-Ordinator of an up-and-coming Lancashire packaging business. Ho yes, no life-enhancing gap year for me.  I was to be the next Karren Brady, pioneering the business world like Natasha Giggs pioneered a whole new level of non-celebrity.

Except it was just really boring, and didn't even feign an attempt at making me happy.  I guess the question is, at what point do we decide to accept our lot in life?  Do we ever stop dreaming of better?  And is better really out there? 

We all have dreams and we all have a breaking point, so when an article written by Esther Freud entitled, ‘So Why Haven’t You Done It Yet,’ featured in my beloved Elle Magazine, naturally, I was inspired to turn my life on its head.  Asking questions like, ‘am I happy?’, and ‘what would I do if I could do anything?’ proved dangerous.  Before long I was handing in my notice and skipping into the sunset, a head full of dreams and a pocket full of hope.  Or, you know, about £20.

Preparing to go back to University to pursue a career in media (I am the next Chris Moyles, fyi), I quit my job and headed down south for a summer in the Big Smoke.  When disaster struck, and the course was deferred just two weeks before it was due to commence, I was forced into unemployment.

This was never in the plan.

The first time I had to fill in a form that required me to select my shiny new (un)employment status it took me 15 minutes.  I had worked tirelessly from the moment I was old enough to, throughout school and university, and I’d snared my first full-time job before I’d even sat my final exams.

My only hope now is that Esther Freud will compose an article entitled, ‘This Is Why You Hadn’t Done It Yet, Here’s What To Do Next…’

Until then, I’m muddling through.  Someone hand me some lined paper and a pen, I’ve got a list to make!