We’re heading out tonight to have a few drinks with my brother, who turned 21 years old this week. It’s kind of messed up when your younger siblings hit those milestones – mostly because it makes you feel freaking ancient. Like wow. Here I am writing blog posts about domesticity, and there’s my younger brother who used to have Power Ranger birthday parties turning twenty-freaking-one, enjoying the college life, being able to drink in bars for the first time, sleeping till 11:30 and blissfully not knowing anything about what it’s like to be out in the working world.
It’s hard for me not to go down a path of worry that I wasted my “youth.” Now, I’m not pretending that I’m Methuselah over here, I’m still in my mid-twenties (I guess…where does 26 fall on the scale? Mid or late twenties? Do I even want to know?), and I still have quite a lot of living yet to do, but I do wonder. Did I take advantage of that awesome, no-responsibility, no-clue, free time of my life? Did I go out enough, did I see enough of my friends? Did I spend enough time careless and partying or was I too consumed with worry?
Sometimes I think I was too consumed. Sometimes I regret not being more…something when I was in college…even high school. And sometimes I remember that it’s a pointless conversation, regret. You can have them, but it’s probably for the best to acknowledge and move on rather than dwell. Seems like a really old mindset to swim in regrets, the could-have-would-have-should-haves.
Besides, I’m really enjoying my post-college existence. My landscape may be changing – we’re all getting older, getting married, having children, and trying to figure out who we are and what that means about us, but that’s pretty damn cool, now that I think about it. 🙂 Can’t wait to see what else is in store.
So now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put on my skinny jeans, eyeliner and blowout my hair for a night of drinks and music, and happily be reminded of what it was like to be 21.