Mortgage, pension, house prices, career ladder. These are all things I probably should dedicate a bit more time to thinking about, but here I am sat on Skyscanner, booking a little jaunt to Barcelona. Because hey, who needs savings right?
I’m 24. I have a full time job. I’m lucky enough to not be paying rent at the moment – it does mean living at home and enduring arguments about whether I cleaned the washing up bowl out or not because, you know, the sparkliness of the sink is a big priority in life, but it has added a nice top-up to the travel fund.
Thinking it over…
When is enough enough though? When do I need to start thinking about (*gasp*) the future? Do I actually have to become an adult anytime soon? Yes I love my job, but I don’t know how much longer I can picture myself sitting at the same desk. Yes I can probably just about afford a house deposit in some areas, but I don’t know if I actually want to pick a city now that I’d be happy to live in for the next however many years. If I get a mortgage for one house, can I transfer it or am I stuck there forever? What is equity? How the bloody hell do you read a water meter?!
I still cannot drink wine without getting a terrible hangover, I don’t own a Filofax and I haven’t suddenly found a fondness for olives or coffee – all signs, I have been assured, of being an actual real-life adult. When are these things meant to kick in? Is it ok to prioritise mojito filled trips abroad and mud-splattered festivals to traipsing around Ikea and buying ‘Ideal Home’ magazine? At what age does living with your parents actually translate to pathetic loser who needs to sort herself out?
Those Magical Mid-Twenties
I assumed as soon as you hit mid-twenties that everything would have magically fallen into place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that my life is going pretty well at the moment – but there’s a little niggle in my brain saying that spending my evenings obsessively watching Love Island isn’t quite enough. Perhaps I should be looking for a higher paid job in a city somewhere, going to the gym in the evenings and brunching with the girls on a Saturday. I’d get up early and drink fresh juice with my breakfast, own a neat little office space, and have a social calendar filled with birthday drinks and cocktail evenings at my flat.
Doesn’t that sound idyllic? Well yes, but then there’s the rent or mortgage costs. The cleaning. The having to settle into a new job with new colleagues in a new place. Then there’s the fact that sometimes I don’t really like the gym very much, and I do actually like spending my evenings obsessively watching Love Island.
It would be fine if I hated my job – but leaving something that’s already pretty good on the off chance that the grass will be greener is a risk, and not one I’m sure I’m ready to take. I guess I’ll have to start thinking about things soon though, and decide where I want to be and what I want to do rather than being in the strange, half-settled limbo that I’ve found myself in.
Having said that, that all sounds a little bit scary, so I’ll just carry on looking at flights to Barcelona and put off being an adult for just a little bit longer…