Friday, 17 August 2012

Growing Up.

I was in the car with a friend last week, on our way to dinner, when the topic of houses came up. Several people we both know have moved out of home, or are about to. I asked him if he planned to do the same (I envy having the financial freedom to have it as an option, but also am beginning to enjoy living at home and don't really want to leave). He said he was thinking about saving up a bit more and then putting a deposit on a house. A deposit. On a house. It was at this point that it hit me: we're becoming grown-ups. Actual, real, bill-paying, salary-earning, responsibility-holding adults.
 I should point out that both he and I are twenty, and he is he first person I know that actually has the ability to talk seriously about the prospect of buying property. Lucky bastard.

I suppose, if you look at it like somebody with half a brain, everyone crosses that threshold at some point. Indeed, being twenty years old seems like a fairly decent place to start looking for the moment to jump the proverbial family ship and start living for oneself as an independent individual.

On the same note, my boyfriend's started talking like an adult, too, over the last three weeks, and actually following through with it. Granted, a lot has happened over that time, but I'm not sure what was the final clincher. He's got his head screwed on now and is putting it to good use. I'm finally seeing what he's been talking about for the last 6 months put into action, and to be honest, it's exciting. Not in the jump-up-and-down-at-the-idea-of-candy type exciting, but the thought of me, him a house and a puppy isn't looking so pie-in-the-sky anymore.

Add to these the fact that most of my friends are graduating university at the end of the year, and are already thinking about Masters degrees and real full-time employment. (I should like to point out that, sadly, I won't be joining them just yet, given that I have another year to go before graduating. Yay for Honours?)
Speaking of which... Had a meeting about said final-year yesterday. Given that I had already read the online information, attending was pointless for the most part.... until the very last question of the day. The conversation was trending towards organisation and time management being the most important  factor in doing well, with the insinuation being that one cannot do anything bar study for two semesters. Directing her question to a past student, a girl two rows down asked, "So, you didn't work during your honours year?" The graduate burst out laughing, took a breath and said, "No, God, no."
She fired back, "So how did you live?!"
"Centrelink," He grinned, "And I lived at home with my parents."
I rolled my eyes and thought to myself 'well, there goes volunteering and any kind of social life'
Still, despite my irritation at the attitudes the director and students were conveying, I still have to stop and think: I have been waiting for this next 12 months for the last 4 years. It's been the most exciting part of my future, and it's nearly here. Holy crap.

It's the beginning of the end, and at the other side, is the start of the rest of my life.
So much is going to change, everything is going to be turned upside-down, and tipped back up again. It's a scary thought and yet incredibly exciting at the same time, and I for one can't wait!

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