The Quarter-Life Crisis

I think I’m having a quarter-life crisis – two years and two months too early. Is that even possible? Like, REALLY?

Yeah, it probably freaking is considering my thought patterns lately.

What if I just leave here in May? I’m going to quit my job…tomorrow! Who cares if I’m a manager?! It’s fine. We can live in Savannah or North Carolina, or Malibu, or Boston, or anywhere that isn’t Oklahoma. Let’s leave. Now. I’m not kidding. GIVE ME RED MOSCATO AND MY HELLO KITTY BUILD-A-BEAR.

Usually the poster children of “life crises” are men…fully grown, old men that start pretending they’re in college all of sudden. They just wake up one day and are like, “holy shit, I’m ancient! Time to buy a motorcycle and have five Russian girlfriends named Svetlana.”  Ew. It usually isn’t too pretty.

I like to think that a quarter-life crisis is a little less unappealing to the general public than mens’ mid-life crises, or at least that’s what I tell myself.  Better to get your life crisis over early, right?  Here’s a list of reasons why:

a. you still have a good 60-65 years left to do whatever you want – literally anything.

b. it’s way more socially acceptable to not know what the hell you’re doing at this age.

c. it’s forgivable for you to think teenagers are still hot because, you know, you’re not forty years older than them yet. (hello, Justin Bieber and Harry Styles!)

d. you can get away with acting like a college kid…because you were only in college a year ago.

I mean, all I want to do lately is dye my hair pink, move to California, and write for some teeny bopper magazine until I make it big as a writer. People do it every day, it’s just that very few have the balls/lady balls to really commit.

Is it cliche? Well, obviously. But….YOLO. It doesn’t matter if your dreams are cliche as long as it’s what you really want. Dreams only become a cliche because they’re desired by millions. And duh, who wouldn’t want to sit in their pajamas all day writing about crazy teen girls chasing after a fictional pop star?

Let’s think about which is worse – being poor in LA for a little while or wondering “what if” for the rest of your life?

K, byeee!


Pink hurr, Katy don’t curr




is stupid. k, byeee!