You can’t cook. This used to be a cute character trait, but now you’re sure this is just indicative of your stunted life as a child in an adult’s body. You stop at Mac’s Milk to get a frozen burrito to take home and microwave and eat in front of the television while watching Special Victims Unit on Netflix.
You were supposed to quit smoking. Everyone you know thinks it is disgusting, and now you just think of it as a crutch that prevents you from thinking too much about what you aren’t doing with your life right that second. Every time you light up a cigarette sitting on your discount Canadian Tire patio set you’re buying yourself a few more minutes where you don’t have to play the reel in your mind of every opportunity you ever fucked up. You light up a cigarette.
You can see 30 pretty clearly from here and you’re torn between accepting that no one will ever love you again because you’ve so thoroughly destroyed everything worth loving about yourself in the years since you’d last felt happy in a relationship and manically trying to reenact scenes from 6 or 7 years ago dancing and carrying on like you don’t look twice as haggard wearing a T-shirt you got for your 19th birthday in the hopes that someone will see the person you aren’t so much these days, pick you up and take you anywhere, absolutely anywhere but where you are right now. You drink a lot at the bar because deep down you know this won’t happen.
You don’t bother reading self-help books because you’re far too busy at your dead end job, and you already know the big reveal at the end is that you are the architect of your own destruction anyway. You have a free hour in the evening and spend it listening to #Beautiful on repeat and reading Amanda Bynes’ Twitter feed.
You read lots of articles in the New Yorker and the Globe and Mail that tout your generation’s disenfranchisement as something you have no control over. The Baby Boomers fucked you over, your generation was sold a lie about prosperity that 2013 could never deliver, that kind of stuff. It makes you feel a bit better knowing that low marriage rates and high unemployment rates are all around you, and then then it makes you feel a bit worse knowing that everyone you know is just as fucked as you are. You enjoy getting tagged when people post these on Facebook, though.
You have mundane dreams sometimes about a different version of your life where everything is the same except you’re just happy. You don’t want to wake up from them.
You’re terrified of living alone and even more terrified of a time ten years from now when you won’t have any single or broke friends who will need to have you as a roommate.
You can follow Travis on Twitter at @TravMyers.