Fix it, or get over it

When I was 24, I figured 25 was proper adult. This meant I had six months to quit smoking or I was an idiot. So I did.

I'm a few days of 28 now, and I still in no way feel like a proper adult.

There are expectations you have when you're a kid about what being an adult is like. You have a job, your own house and car, maybe your own children. You make your own decisions about what to eat for dinner and when you can go to bed, but you have to pay bills.

What I've learned from my twenties is; having a job means you have to go to work even when you don't feel like it. You can't drink the night before, because you can't do your job properly when you are seedy. Having your own place, even if you are renting, means now you have financial responsibilities greater than the dole would support - so you're stuck working for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. Your car needs petrol, a service, a new set of tyres. Your dinner needs to be paid for, prepared before it can be eaten, and you still have to do the dishes after. You could stay up as late as you wanted, sure, but you still have to get up at six the next morning, so best tuck in early. I don't have children, but I do have a dog, which means I can't travel whenever and wherever I want, I have to feed him and walk him every day, and if he decides he won't stop licking his foot I have to pay hundreds of dollars in vet bills until he gets a new hobby.

In that sense, I know I'm an adult. I have independence, financial responsibilities and a dependant. What I still have tho, is the insecurities of a sixteen year old girl.

That's why, my 2013 New Year's Resolution, is fix it, or get over it. 

Example one: You can't keep whining about the 5 kilos you can't seem to shake. Either lose them, or accept them as part of who you are in your late twenties.

Example two: You can't keep complaining you don't have enough time to write. Either make more time, or accept you won't get to write as much as you like. Your book won't get finished before it gets irrelevant, you won't be published before your thirty. And be okay about that.

Example three: You can't keep being lonely because all your friends have moved away. Either make more of an effort to keep in touch with them, or get over your social anxieties and make new friends.

I have two years left until I'm thirty, which is when I've re-decided proper adulthood actually begins, and you can't keep being insecure and anxious, or you're an idiot. You can't have kids until you're happy enough with who you are that you can raise them to be happy in who they are. You can't quit work to be a full-time writer until you've proven you can spend a day off not watching DVDs.

I can not turn thirty until I'm proud of who I've become. So this year I'm gonna fix it, or get over it. Then I get a whole year just to enjoy it.

Happy New Year all xoxo

If you're happy and you know it...

Today was a good day. I celebrated one year with my wonderful man. We drove home from our weekend away in Blairgowrie back to our beautiful unit in Brunswick. Shaun had a lovely play in the park. The sun was shining, and I made pasta for dinner.

But then it happened. Somebody asked me politely how I was.

'How are you?' is the most complicated sentence in the English language. The sentence itself, seems harmless, but if you misjudge the context you can cause much harm.

Example one: Walking the dog in the morning. Nod a polite 'How are you?' to the man with the staffy you pass at 6:20am every weekday morning. He answers, not with the expected 'How are you?' nod back, but rather answers the question and you have to stand awkwardly and listen to the reply.

Example two: (True story) Sales assistant asks customer: 'How are you?' Customer replies with 'Actually I have breast cancer.'

Example three: Friend asks friend 'How are you?'

This is where it gets tricky. Sometimes you know that friend has had an awful day. Sometimes you know they've had the worst 6 months of their life. You are feeling excellent. So you answer - fine.

Sometimes you've had a bad day. You stubbed your toe, your train was late, your boss was grumpy. But your friends mother just died. So you answer - fine.

I first realised two months ago I was happy. Actually - I didn't realise so much but my dad looked at me and said 'Could you be any happier? 'But with the knowledge of my happiness came its closest friend. Guilt

Guilt that my friends weren't so well off. Their relationships weren't going so well. Their job wasn't as fun at Christmas time. They were sick. They were unhappy.

And I didn't feel happy anymore.

Maybe happiness, like love, is only true when it's shared. You can only be truly happy in the presence of others who are truly happy.

Can you happiness make someone who is sad happy? Or will it only make them feel worse?

Can you ever answer a question honestly, without taking in all the factors? Because today I feel great. But I have a mosquito bite on my foot that is itchy, and if you asked me right now how I was I'd say pretty pissed off actually.

So there's the ying and yang. You can't appreciate the good without the bad blah blah. But wouldn't it be nice, if when you were happy, and you knew it, you really could just clap your hands?