I have such ridiculously high expectations for my life and I get so down on myself that I haven’t yet achieved all my dreams. I am so many years off being able to be where I want to be and I just don’t have the patience for it. I hate the realization that I’m so much younger than my best friends and get so jealous that they’re at a point where they can pursue (or even KNOW) what they want in life.
I just want everything to happen right now. I want to have finished a degree that I love and be in whatever job is going to pay me well.
I want to be in my Amelie Poulain-inspired apartment, baking quiche for my lover and I, while we drink pinot in our underwear and listen to Portishead.
My days should be filled having picnics by myself in my courtyard, reading and eating leftovers of said quiche with ice tea, rather than sitting in lectures for a degree I don’t want to be doing.
I can no longer stand spending 20 hours a week clearing away glasses and getting home at 2am. I should be managing a cupcakery and be home in time to have dinner ready for two.
Most importantly, I shouldn’t be sleeping alone in a huge cold bed. I should be kept warm by someone’s body heat, and fall asleep trying to match my breathing patterns with them. I feel pathetic waking up at noon every day, alone and depressed without any purpose or any person to get me out of bed.
I need all of this. Now. It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep living this “in-the-meantime” lifestyle and feel content. To even just be able to achieve and hold onto one of these dreams should be enough…