Too young to be old

I'm turning 23 this week. This ought to mean I'd get slightly wiser and more mature, but oh no – far from it.

I feel immensely childish when the ladies at work go on about childbirth á la "worst case scenario", home accidents that lead to death or handicaps for life or how to cook healthy food in order to lose weight. Great topics for coffee breaks and lunch time, right?
Sure, I don’t mind that they talk about food and weight-loss, even though it bores me silly, but as for the rest: I don't want to hear about it or even know about it! Life is already scary enough! These discussions tend to get rather detailed too and I end up sitting there quietly, sometimes even losing my appetite.

I’ll be honest and say I’m a little bit scared of all the things I am meant to do as a grown-up lady (when that day comes). I don’t want to have children, I don’t want to get married and I most certainly don’t want to wind up like one of these goody two-shoes middle aged soccer-mum women.

All I want right now is to go out and get drunk (and since I don’t get to go out so often I’m drunk after two beers and then it’s okay to go home), I want to be properly romanced and have loads of fun – and above all: I don’t want to sit around waiting for life to happen. I want to make the most of it.

I know, this is a very immature post, so I should also mention that in many ways I envy what those ladies have as regards of security, comfort and love. I wish I could feel I was on my way to getting there as well, but I know I'm not even close to starting my own journey towards it.

I feel like a lost teenager trapped in a 35 year-old's routine.
I hate being this “in between”-age. I’m too young for some things and slightly too old for other.

Happy early birthday, Lady Chuckles!