The Big Letdown

I'm at my parents' house scanning old photos. Right now I'm working on photos from London 2001. It looks like I had a lot of fun. I am reminded of the pubs, the people, the good times. I'm browsing thru my online albums, see photos of Northern Ireland, me and Ronan kissing and I'm like, wow, that must have been nice. Meeting a boy and having a romance in Northern Ireland. Sounds exciting. Then I look at my life now, my efficiency apartment in the Midwest, crappy job, or lack thereof and well, it doesn't quite hold up to the memories of my days in lands far, far, away.

I had very different visions of where I would be at this point in my life. I'm going to be 30 next year, and I feel like a 19 year old just starting out. This is really not how I imagined my life would be.

On the other hand, I am quite thankful for what I have and that I am close to family and am healthy and happy and such. It's just when I think about "life" I get very nervous b/c of the thirty mark around the corner and wonder what will my life be? When my time is up, what will my life have been? How will I be remembered? What will I have accomplished? Did I live a happy, loving life?

I guess working on the family tree isn't helping my existential crisis, either. You sum up a person's life by birth, death and marriage dates and maybe an occupation. I guess I'm just scared that my time is dwindling away and I don't know that I've done all I want to do. I'm sure I'm not the only one who fears the end of existence. It makes me long for the days when I was "invincible" and had eternity in front of me.

This is also what I get for having a week off and spending it at my parents' house! My goodness, those are some depressing thoughts. Reminds me why I moved out in the first place, even if it was to an efficiency apartment in the middle of the middle of the country. C'est la vie...