Nobody really wants to get old. We may look forward to certain milestones like being able to purchase alcohol legally, getting a certain qualification etc etc, but secretly we’d all like to discover the secret to everlasting youth and hold onto our youthful good looks whilst still being able to party like an eighteen year old without adding ten years to our physical appearance for every decadent night out, whilst also being able to qualify for the 21 year old’s national minimum wage rate. However, unfortunately, no matter how hard we try, we all have to grow up eventually, and most of us accept that, and at times forget about it. However, there are always those awful ”Omg, I’m getting old!” moments which creep up on us and slap our old age in our face like a wet fish. Such signs include:
1) Having a summer of all work and no play.
Summer is all about relaxation for students, isn’t it? It’s about unwinding after those stressful weeks of exams (or coursework if you’re a an arts student) and enjoying the sunshine and alcohol. So how have I ended up being busier over the summer than I am at uni? I’m currently working in Loughborough over the summer, and it’s not just my job in the office, it’s also doing some PR for a company, helping out at the graduation ceremonies on top of doing summer reading and trying to blog. I’ve had two nights out since term ended, in first year that was the minimum number of nights out I had in a week. A sign you’re getting old is the fact that summer no longer means beer gardens and watching reruns of Jeremy Kyle in your dressing gown at one o clock in the afternoon, it means doing crossing that boundary from child into adulthood.
2) Being shocked that Mean Girls is ten years old
Someone recently told me that Mean Girls is ten years old, and I was like ”WTF!?” because I’m still quoting it like it’s 2004 and like Lindsay Lohan isn’t a hot mess but a talented, red headed starlet. In ten years, Lindsay Lohan became and stopped being a lesbian, Britney had a mental breakdown and I will have gained my GCSEs, A levels and a degree. This does not make me happy; it means I have lived through two decades. The reasons girls at uni won’t let me sit with them is not because I’m wearing pink but because I’m simply too old.
3) Clubbing holidays sound like hell on earth.
I know a few people who have gone to work abroad for the summer as holiday reps, which basically should be renamed as ”partying for a job” because all it involves is getting people drunk, and then getting drunk yourself. I’m sure my eighteen year old self would have loved a job like that, but now it sounds like hell on earth. I’m sure I’d enjoy the first couple of days, but by the end of the week I’d be longing to be in by eleven. In fact, I was fast asleep in bed at 7:00pm yesterday so it is very likely that if I ever got a job as a holiday rep I’d actually be sacked for sleeping on the job.
4) You have LinkedIn account
LinkedIn is a bit like a Kardashian in Facebook form; everyone has an account but nobody is actually sure what its purpose in the grand scheme of things is. I think people got a LinkedIn acoount because everybody else started getting one, and then they got on there and thought ”Shit, what am I actually meant to do on here?”. I’m not even sure what I’m doing on LinkedIn; when I first heard about it I thought ”Oh, that’s for twenty something year olds trying to launch their career” and then it dawned on me ”Wait, I AM a twenty something trying to launch my career! I better hop on the bandwagon!”. SO far though, I’m disappointed; I haven’t been headhunted by a major company and I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to be doing on there.
5) Freshers look like they should be in primary school
I’ve only just finished second year, but I have seen some prospective students being taken around campus, and I’m not sure whether it’s their big eyes as they stare at the hotel that is Elvyn, or the fact their skin hasn’t been ravaged by late late nights and alcohol, but they look scarily young. I’m not even convinced that some of them are old enough to be buying a lottery ticket, nevermind one pound shots of tequila. Regardless, nothing makes me feel like I should be drawing my pension out more than seeing freshers with their enviably fresh faces. The only thing that consoles me is that six months into uni they will be looking as haggard as I do.