Delusions of Grandeur.
Three words that perfectly capture, or rather explain, the difference between where I thought I would be at 25 and the reality of where I am. You see, if you asked me at 21, where I would be at 25, I would have said on track to buying my first property, driving a Mini Cooper, working 9am-9pm for the Stylist as their entertainment and features writer, and on the brink of a promotion to a senior position, of course. Yes, I said 9am-9pm, because I am a self-confessed workaholic who has no regard or respect for normal working hours.
As a fresh and fearless graduate, with illusions of self-importance and feeling indestructible in every sense, I could never imagine things would work out so far removed from where I wanted to be when I met my milestone birthday of 25.