At least once a day I start stressing about how I have no time for life. No time for all of the things I want to do. No time to finish that book. No time to go to the gym. No time to write a blog post. No time to be social enough. No time to chill out and relax. No time to sleep. No time to get on top of things. And then I remember that legally, I'm still not even old enough to drink in some parts of the world. Still not old enough to not have age restrict me from doing things by law. And I laugh it off. Because I know I have all of the time in the world to live - like really, really live. Hell, by the end of the year I'll have finished a university degree, with no real direction or pathway or place to be at only 20 years of age. That is not what I call scary. That's what I call freedom. That's what I call all the time in the world.
Recently, I have thrown myself into socialising, going out more, and trying my best to just be a 19 year old girl growing up in the Perth 'burbs. Trying to not care about anything much at all really except having a good time with my friends, and taking each day as it comes. I've been trying to say yes to more things - in fact, to most things. Saying yes to going out instead of staying in. Saying yes to more shifts at work instead of having the day off. Saying yes to having a drink on a Tuesday night with friends because why the hell not? Why do I need to wait until Friday for that to feel socially acceptable? Why are we always waiting for the weekend to really live our lives and have fun. Why can't we be just as happy on a Monday as we are on a Saturday? Why is Wednesday so often termed 'hump' day? What is this giant hurdle that we are trying to get over?
Is it our working lives? Our day to day mundane actives. Wake up, shower, breakfast, get dressed and off you go. Waiting for the moment we can walk out of work, sit in our cars or on the train, and just completely zone out listening to music. Forgetting everything in the whole world. Or, in my case, overthinking everything and anything that has happened to me in the last, however many days, I can remember. I am in a constant love/hate relationship with my drive home. Sometimes, it is the favourite part of my day, shamelessly belting out any song as loud as I can and watching the sunset fall over the river and the city skyline, un-phased by angry drivers and bad mergers. Other days, all I want is to get to the next 'thing,' the next social outing, the next person to talk to when I get home. So that I don't have to be alone, in a car, with all of the thoughts in my head. And then other days I just laugh at myself for being so overly dramatic because I know my life is pretty great - but then I think, no, you are allowed to be sad, or angry or confused about little things. Those little things combine into big things, and that is your life. You should care.
But then it hits you all at once. All of the socialising, the working, the filling up time in order to avoid the thinking gets the better of you. For me, it is not having time to write on here, not having enough energy to go to the gym, or to stay up and read a book at night. Not having enough time or energy to talk to my family, and actually talk to them, not just sit there and watch TV with them. These are just some of my current thoughts. I'm sure some of you will relate, and some will think I'm just a crazy lady. You do you.