There comes a time in every person’s life when they feel trapped, want to drop everything, and just buy a new car.
Obviously, the only things that can ever make emotional problems better are money and material possessions. And alcohol.
Unfortunately, I don’t have enough money to buy a new car when I find myself stuck in a rut. And thus begins my quarter-life crisis.
In elementary school, I used to love when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, because I had so many answers. I was going to be a movie director, an astronaut and a novelist at the same time.
I loved to answer people because I had all the time in the world to make all of it happen. I was still as optimistic my freshman year of college, with so much time to figure out my life.
A world of indecisiveness is a world of happiness.
But, now comes the time when employers come steal you from campus, you end up homeless on College Avenue or you get married. Frequently, college graduation is an ultimatum to either get married, or have a real life of your own.
So, what makes up a quarter-life crisis, you ask? Start with having little to no concrete idea about what you want to do as a career. Sometimes, I just wish I were an accounting major, which would just tell me what to be.
Then, get the most mind-wrenching movie you can find with a really good and/or indie soundtrack. Like “Closer.” Damien Rice can’t solve your problems, but he can try.
The final key to this equation is a bottle of Absolut, or Skyy or Bordeaux. Everyone keeps saying that it’s not alcoholism until after college, so I guess I should perpetuate the myth until I get kicked out on the street.
One of the worst things you could do in your state of crisis is get a tattoo. In five years, or let’s be real, in five months, you’re going to hate the “Live Laugh Love” that was plastered on your back one drunk afternoon at Sorry Mom Tattoo. Your mom won’t be sorry; you will be.
Also, keep in mind that student loan debt and new cars, boats and personalized Segways don’t exactly mix well together.
But, don’t let the middle-aged man out do you. He’s complaining about everything he already has; you’re allowed to freak out about what you don’t have yet.
Thinking about real life is when things get scary and start spiraling, while watching sad movies with a bottle of wine on a Sunday afternoon. All the potential we once had as children is gone, because we just don’t have enough time left to linger in uncertainty.