Can we have a quick catch up? I brought doughnuts.
From Crosstown. My absolute fave purveyors of custard-filled carbs. I just wanted to sit down and have a bit of a keyboard chat with you guys. Because the posts I love to read most of all are always the ones titled 'life update', amirite? So here are the things that have been on my mind lately.
Sometimes I can't stand being so introverted
I am absolutely textbook. Piles of books, bad chat, the lot. And usually I kind of love it (alone time woooooo!) but lately I've had a few instances at work where the small talk just won't come to me. If you're an outgoing type you may find this difficult to empathise with, but not saying anything when something definitely should be said is a staple feature of my life. It happens more than once a day, every day. It's not that I'm shy or anxious (I'm honestly not) - it's that I only talk when I need to say something. When I really want to share what I'm thinking because it's funny or interesting or important or whatever. Filling air with words because it puts other people at ease (a very valid reason for speaking) and is a social norm that socially normal people adhere to, is a skill so underused in my daily life that when I attempt it I sound like some kind of early android prototype. An uncanny - but unmistakably not human - approximation of human conversation. What usually comes out is something along the lines of:
..... *huge pause* ....... 'The weather is perturbing today, no?' *looks aghast* *laughs nervously* 'Ha. haha. Ha'.
That's not an exaggeration. In fact I think I'm underplaying it. I'm not telling you this in order to reveal some neat trick you can employ to stop your profound introversion from undermining your career (lol I got nothin' folks!). I'm just saying it so that if you too are an android prototype when in the presence of new people, you know there is at least one other person out there walking around doing exactly the same thing. We are (silently and awkwardly) in this together.
I'm happier with my blog than I've ever been
Yes ever! Really! Who'd a thunk it? After 2015 - aka my annus horribilis / worst 12 months of my life / fully fledged existential crisis concentrated into 12 jam packed months of un-fun - I thought my blogging days were done. I spent a lot of time moping about, whingeing, annoying my readers and not writing in the way that makes me happy, and I got really jaded. Not gonna lie. But now. Now it's a different story. I've switched my blog over to squarespace, which I adore. I've undergone a full-on 'rebrand' *pukes in mouth a bit* *shudders* and everything about my blog now reflects my personality so much better. I actually might write a wee post about the rebranding process if any of you would be interested to know how I went about it (from the perspective of now having worked with brands at an ad agency for about a year). Let me know in the comments.
I'm nearly 26. I have mixed feelings
As much as I try to resist the urge, I simply cannot stop myself seeing the age of 30 as a big huge fat super-significant milestone, by which time I absolutely must have absolutely all of my sh*t completely sorted out or face some dire (but very vague) consequences. 30 is a sort of hazy catastrophe hovering on my horizon. I think it's because I've always seen the big three-oh as the time in my life when I would starting thinking about having children. Thinking about it. Not necessarily doing it. I have no real desire to have children at the moment but I guess it will probably creep up on me, given that I'm definitely not against having kids either.
But baby chat aside, I see 30 as the point in my life when I always imagined I would have all my ducks well and truly in a ducky little row. An obedient phalanx of mallards. Just enough promotions to reach the kind of pay bracket I aspire to, in a good place in my relationship (got that one down already, go me) and ready to stop having any more fun ever again until my kids are 25 and finally have their sh*t sort of figured out. What I'm saying is: I think I have all the building blocks in place, so I'm not freaking out about What To Do With My Life, but I am also terrified at the thought that I might only have 4 fun years left 'til it all gets really rather serious. Someone over thirty please tell me how wrong I am in the comments.