Have you recently purchased half of half of a sports car? Are you sleeping with one of your four attractive secretaries? Are you worried about the rapidly decaying radioactive material you've been charged with safeguarding?
If you answered 'yes' to any of the above questions, you may be having a quarter life crisis, but not the type I'm talking about.
What I'm talking about is good old-fashioned coming of age. And even though we've been doing it for centuries, and may have perfected the art in the bucolic-est part of the late 50's (see Stand By Me), every generation's got its own way of falling to pieces come adulthood.
Except maybe pre-1600. Before then, coming of age happened a few days after birth when your father lashed you to a plow, and by age 20 you were either dead, married, or a both. It was not fun times.
These days, we've got our own brand of quarter-life crisis, and it goes something like this: you just finished college, you've got about a million directions you could go in, all the opportunities in the world...and you freeze. And by "freeze" I mean you work a part-time shift at the local Starbucks, stall things with your significant other, dabble in a dozen different hobbies, and tell your family and friends that you're still "sorting stuff out."
But inside, nothing's sorted. Inside, you feel like the next step you take could be the first on a locked-in path to a career, or a marriage, and you just aren't ready for that kind of commitment yet.
At the same time, you're painfully aware that as of now, you're just killing a whole lot of time you're never going to get back, and nothing's sadder than when a barista actually makes it to retirement age without quitting. Seriously, the Starbucks rep actually weeps as he hands you the gold watch.
And on top of all that, it's kind of hard to complain publicly about having too many opportunities. Try pulling that shit at the VA clinic and you're liable to get walker-stomped by a bunch of leathery hardasses in adult diapers.
So what's a plugged-in, hyper-educated, modern post-collegiate to do? Well, I don't necessarily have the answer to that one, as evidenced by the fact that I'm currently trying my hand at about fourteen professions to see which one sticks (I'm kind of leaning towards longshoreman).
But there are plenty of much better resources out there to help you cope. Check out this informative article for a brutally honest look at the phenomenon, and some good links to boot. And if you're still having trouble breaking out of your quarter-life crisis, you could always get part of a hairpiece.
If you answered 'yes' to any of the above questions, you may be having a quarter life crisis, but not the type I'm talking about.
What I'm talking about is good old-fashioned coming of age. And even though we've been doing it for centuries, and may have perfected the art in the bucolic-est part of the late 50's (see Stand By Me), every generation's got its own way of falling to pieces come adulthood.
Except maybe pre-1600. Before then, coming of age happened a few days after birth when your father lashed you to a plow, and by age 20 you were either dead, married, or a both. It was not fun times.
These days, we've got our own brand of quarter-life crisis, and it goes something like this: you just finished college, you've got about a million directions you could go in, all the opportunities in the world...and you freeze. And by "freeze" I mean you work a part-time shift at the local Starbucks, stall things with your significant other, dabble in a dozen different hobbies, and tell your family and friends that you're still "sorting stuff out."
But inside, nothing's sorted. Inside, you feel like the next step you take could be the first on a locked-in path to a career, or a marriage, and you just aren't ready for that kind of commitment yet.
At the same time, you're painfully aware that as of now, you're just killing a whole lot of time you're never going to get back, and nothing's sadder than when a barista actually makes it to retirement age without quitting. Seriously, the Starbucks rep actually weeps as he hands you the gold watch.
And on top of all that, it's kind of hard to complain publicly about having too many opportunities. Try pulling that shit at the VA clinic and you're liable to get walker-stomped by a bunch of leathery hardasses in adult diapers.
So what's a plugged-in, hyper-educated, modern post-collegiate to do? Well, I don't necessarily have the answer to that one, as evidenced by the fact that I'm currently trying my hand at about fourteen professions to see which one sticks (I'm kind of leaning towards longshoreman).
But there are plenty of much better resources out there to help you cope. Check out this informative article for a brutally honest look at the phenomenon, and some good links to boot. And if you're still having trouble breaking out of your quarter-life crisis, you could always get part of a hairpiece.
Im just curious as to why no one has commented on this post. Every single person I know, except those that majored in engineering is facing their own quarter life hell.
I'm trying to make my way through all the blog posts... it is procrastination at its finest.
I imagine no one's commented because they haven't taken the time to look at past blog posts. I hope people do get around to it, because it certainly makes me feel less awful about not knowing where my life is going at all!
Also Swaim, you seem to have it going on. You're married, obviously write for a living, you have your sketch comedy group... are these things not what you want to do? Are you past your quarter-life crisis?
I looked up "pre midlife crisis" and I came across your post. I'm currently going through my quarter life crisis and I have to say folks it's one he'll of an emotional roller coaster, but I feel like it's a beautiful thing, I mean I don't necessarily see it as that you have to become "older" and more "mature" but you have to almost experience every event and obstacle to build your personal "foundation" to shape your self better said. I mean you become almost a stronger person. You become a man/women. Your balls drop and you become independent. You get sick and tired of reporting to a mommy or daddy you notice that the world out their isn't as easy as you guardians made it for you. I almost think of it as I was blind folded and now the blind fold is removed and now you got to attack life with your best techniques and theirs no easy way out . You only got one shot to prove yourself because at the end you carry a reputation and you don't want it to be a bad one.... Keep in mind that life is what you make and your not the only one going through this ..everyone goes through it . All you can do is work hard and give life your best . It's a beautiful thing if you make it a beautiful thing. I'm still in my pre-life crisis but I see nothing but good things coming I mean I refuse to believe/vision anything less. P.s. Nothing in life comes easy ....All depends on how bad you want it.
Eh. I feel like i'm Peter Pan-ing it through my current, I guess, 'quarter-life crisis'. I get that there's beauty, sure, and I'm certain when this is all said and done I will miss these times, and the confusion. But right now i'm feeling like such a mixed up thing.
Its a relief to read this post and these comments though. I'm honestly at the climax of frustration and angst right now, and its nice to not only find out that it has a name, but find people who are just flat out calling it what it is. I feel selfish and spoiled for the unhappiness I've been feeling, when from the outside things look to be on the dawn of something alright.
I agree, it makes it weird to talk about, because it is a bratty subject when I have the opportunity to go to school and all this jazz. Sometimes though, I just really wonder If I would have loved a more simple thing. A more simple path. Something more ground and less sky.
I'm 21. Old enough to know i'm young and impatient.
I'm not a blogger, In all honesty, this is the first time i've ever publicly commented about anything at all. I mostly just read. But, this is what's up. I'm talking to you, strangers, and it feels... nice.