In the midst of my intense process of procrastination, I came to my senses. Or rather, I realized that I might be 23 but I have managed to avoid growing up very successfully. A few things in my life have been dead giveaways. The fact that when my father and his wife announced an unscheduled visit the other day, I had to rush home and try to make the apartment presentable (I proudly announce that I can hoover, spray cleaner on the bathroom mirror and swipe eyebrow hairs from the sink all at once without breaking much of a sweat) shows the dilemma. I want my parents to believe that I handle living alone super duper well (especially since a friend of mine just recently moved out just to move back in with her parents after three days because she couldn’t handle living in student dorms). I want them to think that they did a great job raising me and for them to brag about me when they meet their friends. I know this is really dumb, but the worst thing is that I’m not half as grown up, responsible and well-organised as I’d like my parents to believe. Yes, I handle living alone like a boss, but more like the Doogie Howser type. There is always at least one item in my fridge that is covered in mold and no, I’m not throwing stuff away just because it expired three years ago. Who knows, I might accidentally create a new species, become really famous and rich and never have to write my bachelor thesis after all. I hardly ever check my bank statements and sometimes the bank sends me angry-looking envelopes with thirty of them. I haven’t been to the dentist in almost three years and believe that some divine power is watching over my adamantine. I don’t exercise regularly at all and believe that pesto rosso is a food group. I think I don’t actually have casualty insurance and am currently trying to trick myself into believing I’m a household item so my household insurance covers me. I like to dress up in ridiculous costumes. These are just a few examples of my carefully nourished quirks that would send my mum into a frenzy. I don’t have stuff together. Currently I’ve been cultivating behaviour like this because I feel like I’m channeling 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon. She is my personal hero when it comes to being confused and lazy about getting your life on track and building a grown-up future. This is not just a justification of my repression of bachelor thesis thoughts. It is one for your repression of bachelor thesis thoughts as well. WWLLD? What would Liz Lemon do? Exactly, eat some slightly too well aged cheese and scratch the dry patches on your elbows while watching reruns of American Gladiators or Takeshi’s Castle.
Julia was listening to Helena by The Misfits while writing this