The 24 Year Old Project

I was too busy being all vague and coy in the cover description of my story.

"Of all the reasons in this world, all we ever need is just the right one to keep us going." 

I'm a 24 year old guy who lives with his parents, living a mediocre life, and peaked way too early. I'm not suicidal, depressed, neurotic (maybe), or even bipolar. If someone was playing Pictionary and picked the word "mundane", "unexceptional", "run-of-the-mill", "unremarkable", or "average", it's so sad that I'm pretty sure that they'll make a caricature of my whole being right now. It would highlight the worst parts of how I'm living it, so tell me if you ever see one reason for me to be particularly motivated to continue on.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like living with my parents. And no, I am not just saying this to make my case of being independent. I have a job as a personal assistant to a wise, but somewhat senile boss, whose days are, ironically, too uneventful to be memorable; mind you, I work for a small recording company that only had a few handful of artists and one successful pop star that eventually died of an overdose only after two albums, one of which was a complete bust. I had a one-bedroom apartment paid for by the company, just one mile down the road of where our office is, but I had to let it go because they had to give it someone more qualified than me.

Romance doesn't excite me that much anymore. Yes, I know it's too early for me to declare it, but that's how I feel. Is it too cynical for you? Are you going to tell me that I'm going to find the love of my life any second now? It's funny, because it's kind of impossible. I muted my chat boxes in Facebook; I don't really use a lot of social or dating apps like Tinder, Tumblr, WhatsApp, Viber, Line, or whatever the fuck the other ones are. Although I find it infinitely funny that memes are so flexible nowadays, it's like anyone can express themselves using memes. I barely go out to clubs or bars because I find it tiring to dress up just to get myself laid. Then add the fact that I have to spend a couple of thousand just to get drunk when I can just buy a bottle of cheap brandy for less than a hundred bucks and call my friends for a spontaneous night of getting drunk. Trust me, getting laid is the last of my worries.

I have a bunch of FHM posters in my room; posters of those gorgeous girls, ladies, and women that I will never ever have a chance with. That does a lot on my self-esteem, so here's a detailed account of how I actually look like so that y'all won't start imagining some Zayn Malik look alike or a Justin Bieber starter pack. Clearly, I am not one of those guys, although they are dime a dozen in my workplace.

I started wearing glasses when I almost hit a guy with my car; to be fair, he was playing basketball in the street. You know one of those cliché scenarios when a kid tries to go after a ball bouncing on the street? Yeah, that sort of thing; I mean, I saw the ball streaking past my car already but I never saw the dude running after it. He apologized after I hit my brakes and blasted my horn at him.

I'm the classic t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. I only wear suits in formal functions like weddings and... nope, just weddings. My old boss wants me to wear suits during work days, and I'd be whispering under my breath, "Give me a raise first, you old fool." Seriously though, he doesn't pay me enough to be a suit-wearing assistant. Those TV series that I binge watch really hurts my feelings because I don't have that fashion sense as Barney Stinson or Harvey Spectre. I can't even pull-off the "accidental just-got-out-of-bed" hairstyle of Ted Mosby or the Clark Kent classic. I understand and accept that fact, so I opted on having a relatively short mushroom cut because it saves me from having to have my haircut every two weeks (my hair grows at an accelerated pace). I still can't figure out why in the hell wouldn't they call it something else, though. I mean, most hairstyles have cool names. I love mushrooms (not the druggie kind) but man, for a hairstyle, it's a bit underwhelming.

I'm not extremely fit, but I can keep up with an average guy running in a 5k. I have a gym membership that I use probably once or twice a month whenever I feel the need to punch something. I'm five-foot eight, I don't have a dad bod, but I do have a small beer belly brewing. I love playing basketball; I go at it every week with my friends, which is nice if their girlfriends don't start questioning why we do it. Ladies, chicks don't go to basketball gyms to watch a bunch incredibly unfit men sweat in their college jerseys and miss shots that they'd make if they practiced when they were kids. But it helps a lot if you came to one of our games, though; it gives your man enough confidence to do what Kobe does (and probably fail at it, too).

I drive a serviceable red '96 Mitsubishi Pajero that I inherited from my dad after he upgraded into one of those mid-life crisis cars. No, bro, we're not that rich. It's one of those retirement goals that people have, so I suggest you go list yours before you judge my dad's choices. I never crashed it, nor have I hit anyone with the exception of the occasional rat road-kill. I go through a fast-food drive-thru more than a car wash because... well, that's because I'm the kind of personal assistant that gets ordered to bring a bulk of delicious, unhealthy deep-fried food to the office. To be fair, I don't get asked to bring coffee as often as the typical assistant does.

So if you haven't gotten the basic framework of how I look like, or how I am as a person, it's alright. I tend to get weird sometimes that I ramble about things that occasionally don't make sense. I will eventually get tired of how I'm living right now; I just need a push... an adventure, a crisis, a quest, or a mission, whatever. I'm up for anything, really. In the meantime, you'll just have to bear with my project. I'll call it "The 24-Year Old Project". Catchy, right?