is this my grown up life?

I’ve been wanting to write this post for quite a while now. But everytime I try to write it, I can’t seem to finish it. But after reading Well-heeled’s entry on the Roaring 20’s, I figured it won’t hurt to put my feelings into words.

When I was born, my mother wasn’t even 24 yet. By the time I figured out how to talk, walk, and perhaps even have a little bit of personality, my mom was in her late 20s, early 30s.  Once a kid goes to school, people always seem very fond of asking them what they want to be when they grow up.  I think my answers ranged from being an accountant (I liked math) to being a teacher (long vacation time).  All very down-to-earth, practical answers.  Occupations such as being an astronaut, doctor, pilot, were never on my lips.  I was also never one of those girls who planned/dreamed of her wedding or had sleepovers where the girls had pillow talk, etc but I always did know what was going to happen. I would be married, with my own children (or not) and I would have a nice comfortable safe life with my HDB flat after graduating from NUS (preferable) or NTU.  That was the plan.  I would be able to buy whatever I want within reason (seriously, $500 for a pair of shoes was never the plan….$80 was and still is my idea of a splurge).  I would have, in short, the nice suburban life.

Well, life sure took a hell of a U-turn.   Never made it into the local Uni.  Instead of heading to Australia (Plan C), I landed in Baltimore. Instead of heading home after graduating with a degree in Chemistry like my uncle, I graduated with a degree in Neuroscience and headed off to med sch in Chicago(my parents occassionally question why I didn’t just go to med sch in australia after HS like other normal people and why is it that I always pick places to live where guns and crime are so rampant).  Instead of graduating from college in 3 years like other Singaporeans, I took 5 years. Instead of graduating from Med sch in 4 years like other American medical students, I’m taking 5 years.  I know. You can tell I’m a procrastinator. I seem to prefer the long tortuous road.

Instead of the husband and kids, I’m still single. Without a place or city to really call my home. Yes, Singapore is my home. I guess. But why is it that I feel … like a tourist everytime I go back home?  Instead of being in a position where I can buy needed daily items as well as wants without a worry, I’m clipping coupons, rationing what I can eat/drink, restricting daily luxuries (such as Starbucks! argh).  Not that being frugal is a bad thing. No, I think being frugal is good because in so many ways, we as a society, have been so indulgent that it may, quite literally, causing us our future. But ever so occassionally, I would like to enjoy my life.  The worst part is, I”m still entirely dependent on my parents for living.

Instead of knowing where I’m going or already being where I want to be, I’m still struggling to figure out where I am going and where I want to be.  My 30s are a stone’s throw away. I’ve been told by LJ that I act like a child.  And I know it. But if I start believing that I am an adult, I am afraid that I might have to face the reality that perhaps I have failed to grow up because well, adults know who they are, don’t they?