I always say I wish I could win the 400 million dollar lotto, but I never ever have bought a ticket.
I always say I want to rock a shredded P!nk bod, but I buy the 100 dollars worth of Beachbody stuff and stop week 2 and eat a box of donuts.
I always want to grow my hair back out long, but then cave and cut it all back off (although this time i am a lot more determined out of sheer poverty and I can't afford any hair maintenance)
Every damn day I want to quick my fucking job and actually do something white collar that I went to school for, but rebuilding a resume is daunting, writing a generic cover letter is like a paper cut, and cold applying to galleries and small museums is downright sad feeling when you know they can barely afford themselves let alone some strange chick who emailed their general inquiries box.
I want to travel to the west coast, but doing that alone is definitely depressing (and costly)
I want to write a funny and insightful book, or keep a vlog/blog that people notice or want, but I have zero drive or determination to do anything like that. Especially since this blog is proof enough how boring and random I really am. I'm not a fitness guru, a makeup and hair tutorial, or a comedian. I don't even have interesting enough pets or life experiences to say "This is how I...."
I own a guitar and a ukulele but I never have bothered to pay for lessons.
The reality of 27 is a chick constantly in financial trouble who eats junk and works 8 hours a day at a job she hates and isn't good at, and coming home alone to sit on a lumpy couch to think about her life choices. I don't go out to bars or movies or have bonfires that apparently everyone on Instagram is doing. And people who do actively do that I think are fucking weirdos - my life is way more realistic than theirs. Especially since I live in a town where 17 year olds drive mustang convertibles and there are no fast food joints or thrift stores.
At least I'm only 27 for another 3 weeks...