In short, adulthood sucks and I really want a puppy. The usual really.
We’ve all been there, 12 years old and planning our dream lives. Mansions in the centre of an ultra-hip city, constant parties and somehow simultaneously, a loving family. Adulthood seemed like the ultimate goal, the prime of our lives – a time in which everything finally slotted into place and life was easy. A thought that seems laughable the second you turn 21. Don’t get me wrong, being a (pretend) adult is great but there are a bloody lot of things I can’t be bothered to do – and I spend half my time wishing I had zero responsibilities and was completely void of bills. I saw a similar post to this by Lauren Rellis and immediately began thinking about my own teenage hopes and dreams.It’s funny to look back and think of what I thought my life would be when I was younger – and even funnier when I think of all of the things I completely forgot about, or more accurately had no idea about, when daydreaming about my glory days.
I’m sure I’m not the only person that thought that adult life would be a series of mature conversations in suave cocktail bars, when in reality it appears to be necking a bottle of £5 wine and complaining about the mould in our houses. Perhaps everything will come up Millhouse, perhaps I’ll get my dream mansion, petting zoo and flock of adoring fans – or perhaps I’ll spend the rest of my days scrolling through Just-Eat desperate for fries at 2am. Either way, it made me chuckle to think of then and now – so I’d thought I’d share it with you all so we can laugh together at my naïve hopes and dreams.
Let’s just get this one out of the way at the beginning. My dream house was going to have 30 bedrooms, an indoor pool, a giant garden for my hoards of animals and a home cinema. Not once did I think about the career in the mainstream music business that I’d have to pursue to ever afford this (that’s a lie I definitely wanted to be the next Beyoncé.) My point is, there is probably no career I could pursue within my lifetime that will ever allow me to own Claire Castle. Not to mention, as I’ve grown older it’s become apparent to me that living in a giant house would actually be horrible – all of the unexplainable noises and the vast amount of cleaning just isn’t worth it. I think I’ll probably stick to Claire Condo – or at this rate, Claire’s room in a house-share with 4 other people.
Living in one building with all of my friends
As I got slightly older of course I had the typical adolescent thought and wanted to move into one building with all of my BFFL’s. Now, this is a fantastic idea, there are no negatives to this situation. Unfortunately there is just no feasible way that enough people could move out of one building so that me and all my pals could move in. (Of course I mean approximately the 10 friends that I have – but it’s still not very likely.)
Landing your dream job – with ease
I had definitely watched far too many films of cutesy twenty-somethings stumbling into an assistant job straight out of uni, impressing their boss and getting the job of their dreams within a year. Of course the sad reality of this is that after leaving uni you’re thrown into a section of cyberspace that’s filled with hundreds of other 2:1 wielding graduates that have seen the same fictional characters living the dream.
Staying in touch with your pals
Expecting to keep in touch with all of your friends was something every teenager seemed to think would happen naturally – I remember me and my best friends way back when discussing that our parents had about three friends, a concept that was completely surreal and nightmarish to us. Little did we know that we’d spend 80% of our time working and the other 20% trying to catch up on sleep. Maybe if we’d found that giant building that we could all move into I’d still be dancing around to You Me At Six right now. Well dancing around, with friends to You Me At Six right now.
Spending time in fancy bars, sipping cocktails and looking v. sophisticated
This is probably the only one I’ve come close to, although instead of fancy bars it’s a Be At One at happy hour, and instead of looking v. sophisticated I’m dancing to Mambo No. 5.
Having a lush indoor pool
In my head when I was younger, having a pool in my house meant that I’d made it in life – I could die happy, my wake could be a super cool pool party. I imagined spending days lounging by the pool, sipping on some fruit punch and thinking about how simple and relaxing life was. All was well until adulthood came along – leaving me a pool-less loser that can hardly afford my local leisure centre.
Owning 20 dogs
This is something I still refuse to believe. I used to want a “Puppy Palace” more than anything in the world. When I say used to I mean, up until about a year ago. Heck, it’s what I still want today. Let me paint this image for you, a puppy palace is a big sparkly building that is full of all of my puppies and they’re all treated like royalty. I’m sure you can see why this one is hard to let go of. Unfortunately –and I am legitimately sad whilst typing this- I just don’t have time for my puppy palace. (Or an appropriate income of course.) I’m pretty sure I don’t have time for one perfect canine friend.
Magically having perfect skin
I can’t remember what made me think this, maybe just sheer hope, but somewhere in my brain I was convinced that bad skin was something that mystically disappeared as soon as you turned 20. I spent years of my spotty teenage life eagerly awaiting the day that I’d wake up with what can only be described as the skin of a goddess. However I’m almost 22 years old and I’m still sporting blemishes and some impressively red cheeks.
It’s so strange to think of what I thought adulthood was when I was younger, I think I speak for many when I say – I was pretty sure it was a constant party and money-fest. There’s something bittersweet about looking back on the past and your perception of life, in knowing that although some things didn’t go to plan and you’re not living it up Elle Woods style – there are so many other things that you learn to appreciate. I’d like to think child-Claire would be happy with where I am and who I’ve become, but knowing her she’d probably just complain and ask for a puppy.