Ground Zero

So here's the deal.

London born and bred, I am turning 25 in two months time, and genuinely feel as though the crisis is no longer a privilege of the mid lifed, but has in fact slithered its way into the lives of every person nearing the dreaded Quarter Century; a sweat bead inducing point in time that I feel is definitely deserving of capital lettering.

I can actually pinpoint the beginnings of my mental breakdown to an exact date nearly two years ago. June 2nd, 2011. My 23rd birthday.

For the last 23 years I had been loving everything my adolescence had to throw at me. Sure I'd had my bad times; break up's with boyfriends, bust up's with girlfriends, and even the dawning realization that my cookie-cutter mother was an alcoholic; but enveloped in the idyllic bubble of college, university, good friends and great times, I was more than happy to brush aside all negativity, instead favouring the mantra of everyone's beloved Bob "don't worry, be happy" Marley, something I succeeded in doing until that fateful stroke of Midnight in December. Twenty Three. Fuck. When did that happen!?

So there I was, in my lounge with a bottle of Sainsbury's finest (Basics) with my best friend; ladette extraordinaire and thus favourite partner in crime- Annie, when it really dawned on me; I was turning 23. I had finished university, and after 18 years in education, I was finally free. With no career in mind, no man holding me back, no strings attached to anything, least of all sex (sigh) and no set path in life, I was free to do whatever I wanted, it was all up to me, and only me.

It was about then that I felt the heart palpitations.

See it's at these cornerstone moments in life that you want to punch whoever coined the phrase "the grass is greener" for being a know-it-all smug bastard. Despite the past five years being some of the funnest times in my life, fuelled by debauchery of nearly every kind, I had always yearned for the days where I didn't have to cram cheat notes in my knickers for those all important "you will not amount to anything unless you pass these" examinations, for the days where boys were men and sex was on a private jet to Monaco as opposed to a crusty sheeted single bed in a Uni hellhole, and where I could finally cut the institutional ties and be left alone to get a job, a huge house and live the London version of Sex and the City. That was my plan. Except it wasnt. At the stroke of Midnight I realised I had no plan. I had ideas of my life, sure, but no actual plan. No hard and fast way as to secure the dream trips to the Maldives, the big house or the sexy man. Oh Christ. All at once I was wishing I was back at University, bring spoonfed my every move in life, in fact I was feeling so panicked, I'd have been hooked up to the IV of life if they'd have let me, but no, it was too late, I had been granted my wish; I had finally been left alone to my life and what became of it was all up to me. 

Fuck.

So here we are nearly two years on from that fateful night and by now, I'm hoping it's become clear why I have felt the need to start this blog. Yes, 21 whole months on and despite having a CV bulging with work experience - all unpaid of course- and a now apparently irrelevant degree, I am still without employment. Many an inbox overloaded with resumes, and even a few phone calls bordering on harassment but so far, Im still waiting for a response more than "don't call us, we'll call you". As for the manhunt, it's going swimmingly. I have a very good relationship with the local barmen who serve me overpriced gallons of wine as I drown my sorrows, trying to forget the last person I attempted to facerape- yes, attempted. Still, on the odd occasion, I get a glass for free which considering I have to live off my parents because I cant get any paid work is at least some sort of silver lining. Okay maybe tin. And that brings me onto my final dilemma- scrounging off the rentals despite the fact that "at my age" they'd already spat out three sproglings, had a mortgage, were starting a business despite having nothing yada yada yada. Self esteem soaring.

Anyway so here we are- ground zero. Welcome to my world. Let's just hope 80's group Yazz had it right and the only way is up...