Muttled but somewhat meaningful musings

I just looked at my own profile and saw that it said I am 24 years old. Naturally, I knew that I am 24 years old, but there's something about seeing in print that solidifies it for you. I know that 24 is by no means old, but on the day I reached it, I had a minor freak out.

I think when most people turn 24, they have a freak out of the "What am I going to do with my life?" variety. I had one more like the "How did I get to this point already?" sort. I mean think about it. I was married by 21, got a job, got a car, got a dog, got a house, got another dog, all in 2 years. Now I'm left wondering what there is left to do now-I want to move on to the next thing. It's like I have this checklist in my brain where I am just marking things off as I get them done. And being the control-freak that I am, I like to get them done very quickly. Most of you would probably say that the next thing on the list is babies. I would tend to agree with you on that, but I know that the thought of having babies right now sends Ross into a panicky, sweaty-palmed spiral. I know we're not ready for kids. I know this. I just feel like I'm going to be stuck in a rut as I wait for the right time to come. And it pisses me off that I'm going to be like that. Why am I so attached to this constant desire to keep things moving along to the next phase, instead of just loving the amazing life I've been blessed with so early on? I'm seriously going to start trying to mellow out and enjoy the way my life is now. I have a hilarious, loving husband, the sweetest, most loyal friends anyone could ask for, a job I love, two dogs that treat me like a rockstar when I come home from work, and a family that has always supported and encouraged me, despite our dysfunction. That's more than anyone deserves. So I'm gonna shut the mess up and and take it all in while it's here. The rest will come when it's supposed to.