Now that I'm older, my heart colder

I have got to that time in my life, like most twenty somethings, where pretty much all my friends, family, and acquaintances are really achieving that family they've always wanted. And this post is simply to enforce, that it is ok to maybe be 'behind' where we thought we may have been ten years ago. Not that most of us need this; we are more than content with the lives we have.

I would like to stress that this feeling has not been put on me by the friends who have their families, this is purely based on self assessment. I do not doubt decisions my friends have made, and I support them 100%. I am not envious, nor am I self congratulatory; I am just living my life like they are living theirs.

I went back to my home town for a break and the obligatory question of whether I have found a boyfriend (sometimes 'yet' - cheers) popped up in almost every conversation I had; I don't. And it's not really an issue for me at the moment. I might have a hen do that you guys can come along to, I might not. If I don't, I am sure we can still arrange some crazy weekends away. My life is not on pause remotely.

Sometimes I do think I'm slower at progressing than the rest of everyone; I am 26, I am still working in a job I've been doing since I graduated, but I am doing what I can to make it better. I moved to a city where there are jobs! And the jobs are within fields I am interested in, and I've made some great friends.
Sometimes my Facebook uploads of people's feet falling out of their shoes (LOL) may seem inadequate to the beautiful photos of the two little girls on their first family holiday in Tenerife, but it's all relative. I adore how those girls have grown into minis of my friends, but I went out at the weekend and my friend wasn't allowed back into a bar because of the state of her feet, it's still funny no matter how you look at it.

I have always suffered at the hands of the grass is always greener syndrome, but I'm now happy to announce that I am more than content at where I am right now, maybe more than I have ever been. If I am able to find a guy who doesn't turn me into a complete psycho the second I fall in love with them, then ideal. Baby? Bonus absolutely. But I will cross that bridge when I get to it, if I get to it. It's not a bridge I'm too focussed on. I just want a nice car, to laze around in my dressing gown until almost 3pm and sleep when I want, for however long. For the moment anyway.

Don't get me wrong, there are times I'm cruising in my less nice car (still great though) with the tunes up loud, thinking how good it would be to have a little person by my side having fun with me, but I don't think my brain could ever prepare for something like that. It would have to be a complete accident, where hopefully, if I continue living the life I am, I'll have a nice enough life to bring him into.

Reviewing this post, it does seem like an attack of the singles vs the families, which is completely contradictory to my intentions. There are just some people also in my position, that only focus on what they aren't doing as opposed to what they are. A girl was well on track to start her happy family, her partner cheats and her drive to leave him quivers due to the lack of wanting to start all over again. To be back to where she was two years ago. Luckily she's pulled herself together, I wish her all the strength in the world to see this as a blessing to meet more new people, learn new things and to use this time to better herself. It is not a step backward, it is a step into the unknown where she can do whatever she wants. And that is a good thing.

Life is all about timing; you can meet someone, marry someone, buy a house, start a family, expand that family. Sometimes the fun of going out and then coming back to a home you built with a friend, singing songs by Adele until 3 in the morning gets in the way of meeting someone. Completely selfish, but surely if you didn't have children when you did, what would you be doing right now? That's what I'm doing. All I want to do is sing with my friends...I'm kidding. But I have been dealt with a hand including a full time job, living in a great city, completely single, honest and loyal friends and there's a whole load of fun thrown in there.

The key thing in life is happiness, some may find it within a family, a partner, a career, travelling. Just need to keep that in mind instead of feeling unnecessary pressures. Love what you have; we are all right where we are supposed to be.

All my life I was blind, I was blind, now I see

So, all of my shit is finally all in one place. Spent the last couple of days trying to find permanent homes for it all. So, let me give a rundown on just how ridiculous I am...

A small cabinet next to my bed full of notebooks and diaries. A bag full of hats, a bag full of tights, two small suitcases of bags.

A chest of drawers with pyjamas and bikinis in top drawer, followed by one with tops, then shorts and skirts and then finally trousers and leggings.

A wardrobe with maxi dresses, to midi dresses, to dresses going from red to purple, with all gradient shades at the end. Then there's jumpsuits, when I have enough hangers I'll put in my long vest tops, tops with sleeves and shirts. The long cardigans and light jackets filter in at the end.

Jumpers and cardigans are folded up beneath the dresses, then high heeled shoes next to them.

A suitcase full of sentimental shit I just can't put anywhere; full of boxes for gifts which are on display, a glass from my 18th birthday, a dvd player box full of loose bits of tat all revolved around my ex boyfriend Pat, newspapers I don't want to get rid of, and magazines I am yet to browse. Folders full of letters from friends at school and my sister's artwork.

Do you think that I have a whole box full of every single card I've received since the age of 11? Of course I have. Christmas, birthday, leaving, Valentine's, you name it, I'm still holding onto it.

Really nice to look through sometimes...fucking hell.

Prefered the house without all the shit in it. Oh, and I've had to spread my vast amount of clothing to downstairs. There's four nice hooks  by the front door almost coming out of the plaster with all my scarves, coats and jackets on it. With a nice double tiered shoe rack underneath for all my boots and flats. No room at all for my housemate, bet he loves it. I'm sure he'll complain when he opens the front door to the mustiness of the coats I never wear.

All these outfits, and I work full time where I have to wear a uniform. 

If I could turn back time

If I could turn back time, I wouldn't have screamed down the phone at you because you said you'd be an hour when I wanted it to only be five minutes.

The case was always that you'd over compensate with time when I knew that in pretty much all circumstances, you'd be leaving in a second.

You could have met my wonderful friends who I had an absolutely lovely evening with today. And maybe you would have been with me there tonight too.

It's definitely not the most important thing I'd change, but tonight, it's laying pretty heavy on my heart.

What happened?

I rented a van

So, basically I didn't move all my treasures up north because I didn't think the move would last. But it has, and now I'm making plans, so with my cushty 17 consecutive days off, I am finally moving all of myself up.

I had arranged the car hiring agency to pick me up at 9am so I could get back and be with my huns as soon as possible, the driver was a little late, but not enough to put me in a mood. We got into the car and followed the sat nav's instructions which were coming up from his knee...my routine completely, but I don't provide a car agency service. Stop it Jess.

So we get to the offices around 9:20am, and I have to fill in the contract forms. At this time my man's colleague makes eye contact and struts over, attractive. Was very welcoming to the attention. He asked about the use of the van, so I explained about the situation; moving up etc. Asked why I moved here; could have gone with the career route, could have even whipped out the old "just fancied it", both of which are true. I decide to provide the most attention seeking one though and bring up the fucking relationship which didn't work out.

He totally wanted it. I am basing this on eye contact from within an office when I come out from using the public toilet. Do you think I just make this shit up in my head? Gets me through the day though. Look forward to returning the van.

Anyway, so my original guy takes me out to the van, tries selling me the additional bullshit which is just extra payments. Really proud at how I can just say no now, just flat out no. He asks why, do you know what I say back? Because I deal with things as they come instead of preparing for things that might not happen. First she wants a lift and now she's a philosopher. With that he sends me on my merry way. I spend about five minutes trying to work out how to adjust the mirrors, you can't. And then another two minutes trying to put the van in reverse. I somehow blagged it onto the motorway, and then my little journey began.

You have no idea how nice it is to have electric windows after manually winding them down for four years. Or how perfect it is to turn the music up and it not be distorted. I was absolutely cruising down the fast lane, average speed of around 80 after I had got through the mess which is Birmingham. Overtaking lane uphill? No longer an issue mate, fuck you and your Audi's.

Had just a few crap cereal biscuits for breakfast, so was smoking to keep me awake. The fags made my mouth taste so gross I had to drink a lot. The traffic jam around Birmingham had taken up an hour of my time so I stopped prematurely to my plans to accommodate my bladder. Panic set in as I had to slow down and park up, managed a nice little bay park though. Saw an ambulance being picked up by a recovery team, clambered out of the van and caught the guy staring up my sweaty dress. No shame. Walked to toilet, saw a text from a friend which included an amusing video from the drunken Sunday morning the day before. Had a crap conversation with an elderly woman about the sensors on the taps and then resumed the journey. No more stopping until Barnstaple now, I said to myself.

Full speed ahead out of the car park, the radio is playing Lionel Ritchie. Fed up of the taste of water, so moved onto my low sugar Red Bull. I hit Bristol and think I really do not have far to go now, I really should stop again before I wet myself. So I stopped at Michaelwood I believe, had to walk all the way to the service station due to being scared of stopping anywhere near any existing parked cars. Urinated, and moved on.

No more stops until home now, less than three hours to go. Wow, I really will make it around 4pm. I get off at junction 27, that was the name of a college band, good one, and head down the link road to very familiar territory. I am 30 miles away from Barnstaple, which means around 60 miles away from Bude, but the thought has already penetrated my mind, and it's all I can think about. I will definitely end up wetting myself.

Just looking to the left and my eyes lighting up at every blue P I came across, then ultimate disdain when the layby soon arrived and there was nothing but concrete against a high bank of grass. I really did not want to publicly wee, I am too old for this shit.

My relief would highten at the amount of blue P's there were, one after the other. All displaying the same lack of facilities. I decided the kind of shit I am not too old for, is getting into the back of the van and pissing in a bottle. I didn't really preempt it, just kinda parked up and thought ok I'll do that.

So there's a parked BMW in front of the van, I'm a little concerned because I don't want them thinking I'm mental. So I open up the back doors and casually jump in, shutting them behind me. I take the bottle top off, and manage to place it so perfectly, I didn't spill a drop. Thank God. And then, to make it seem less strange, I rummage through the massive suitcase I brought with me to hold my clothes for a week (I actually never, ever, ever wear that top - why did I think this time around I would?!) and try to find my phone charger so that the people in the BMW think it's some sort of wire I need to play music, and that it why I was in the back of the van...

After around ten seconds of searching, I can't find it. Then I think, fuck it, I don't know them. I hired this van, I can use it to shield my public pisses if I want to. Then really hoped there wasn't any cameras within the van. Returning it to the handsome man could be a little different to what I had planned. Planned? Sometimes I make up scenarios in my head; he was going to offer me a job there. So mental.

Anyway, I am near home now, that will be the last stop because I had drank all the Red Bull and now I had soiled my only other drinking device. So I go on to open the doors. Nope. No deal. Looking around for any kind of handle, pulling at it, no movement. I fiddle with the keys, locking and unlocking the back doors, still nothing. Search for my phone, it's in the front of the van. Of course it is. I play around with the metal mesh, separating the front from the back, no way I can move it whatsoever. I think about screaming for the BMW couple, ultimate panic. At this point, really hoping there isn't a camera in the back. I scramble around at the doors for a further few minutes, wanting to cry and laugh at the same time. And then I see there's a sliding door to the side, and it opened immediately. So much relief.

Jumped back in the front of the van, slowly creeped past BMW; a man all snuggled and sleeping, oh thank God. And then I continue home. And I don't stop again until I hit the nice little right turn at the church and I'm at Flexbury Park Road.

Dad helped me get my things in from the car, passed him the bottle with the biggest smile on my face. He bloody loved it.