Comfort Zone April 6, 2010

I am in my twenties.
I don’t go out clubbing, or wear short skirts, or wear fake eyelashes on a daily basis.

I don’t go to Uni, or Tafe, or do any form of study.
I work. Full – Time. Sometimes 7 days a week.
But that’s the tourism industry for you.

I spent my adolescent years as a cranky, depressed teen.
I coloured my hair. I refused to wear uniform. I listened to my discman [WTF?] in class.
I didn’t study for exams. I completed assignments the night before they were due.

I pretty much appeared a semi-badass.

I wasnt.

Despite my lack of effort, I got good grades.
I rarely got in trouble and school was my life.

I lived for school.
I hated the classes, but I saw my friends.
And this, at the time, was enough for me.

I rarely hung out with them outside those school gates.
I didn’t go out of a night.
Or weekend.
I didn’t set foot in a club until I was 19.
I hated it, and left after about 5 minutes.

I spent my teenage years, venting my anger at the world, on Myspace [again, WTF?]
I worked part-time. Came home and got on the computer.
I lived through my friends. They were out clubbing, and getting drunk underage, and seeing and doing things I thought only happened in movies.
Sure, I was invited to go with them, but after you decline a few times, the invitations stopped.
Was glad when this happened. I could stop coming up with lame excuses why I couldn’t go.
Work. Family commitments. Babysitting.
Whatever.

Now, I look back and wonder how much differently I would of been if I had gone out, done those things.
Would I be like so many of my friends and be married, or with babies, or like the rest of them and still going out.
Becoming a semi-cougar now that the younger generation have achieved their IDs [and fake IDs]

I am a different person then I was back in day.
I enjoy spending time with my friends. Going to the beach, out to dinner, to the movies – even to bars and cocktail lounges. I still avoid the club scene, I am now too old. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
As long as I feel like I am in control, I am fine.
I am always the designated driver. My car is my security blanket. I always know that if something happens I can retreat there and all will be okay.
At the end of a day/night out, as long as I can come home, to my quiet, darkened house, to my doona and my poodle and my facebook I am happy.

Moderation is the key.

This is my new comfort zone.

As long as I have that, it will be okay.