There comes a point in adulthood when you feel the pressure to have grown up and become ‘who you really are’.
If I was destined to be a confused twenty-something with lactose intolerance, an abundance of Love Island references and a worrying obsession with unicorns then I’d say I’m living the dream.
But what I really wasn’t expecting in my twenties was to be welcomed into adulthood with the feeling of being constantly pissed off.
If it’s not some idiot at the train station ruining my day with a licence to be rude to everyone simply because they have a high-vis jacket and a clipboard then it’s the pensions company saying ‘erm, best invest in some anti-ageing serum, it’s a long road ahead’.
I’m not sure when I turned into my Dad but I think this is adulting at its grumpiest.
Once upon a time we had bands like The Smiths and The Specials to help us through life’s shit-show by playing ‘it’s all a load of bollocks’on repeat…
…now I spend my evenings vigorously scrolling through Instagram to find memes of cats with bread on their faces to cheer myself up, while whoever is spying on me through my iPhone front camera gets a great view of my double chin (*switches off App camera access*).
What’s worryingly more thought-provoking than being permanently pissed off is that as I progress through my twenties I’m learning to embrace the anger – which means I might come out the other side as a better person *shudders*.
Mostly, I’m looking forward to becoming that misery-guts in the family who has THE chair in the living room that nobody else is allowed to sit in.
And from this chair I will complain loudly about regulation, corruption, the unexpected heatwave of 2018 and why what’s-his-face from Love Island is such a bellend…ahh the list goes on … (good luck to my children).
Now if you don’t mind me, I’m off to sulk behind my iPhone.