For some time, I’ve been unhappy. This was a difficult realization to swallow. I like to pretend I’m self-aware. I’ve known I’m not where I want to be ultimately in life, but I’m getting there, swimming steadily, treading occasionally, but always content with my speed.

However, my crisis came to a head several weeks ago at a conference. I had been looking forward to this conference for some time. The topic centered on my personal research interests in my field (mathematics0. But after two days of sitting through academics grandstanding and discussing minutia I gave not a damn about and seeing the passion these people displayed for the subject, I realized this was not my future, this was not my happiness, and, by God, this was not me. But this was theirs.

For the last several months, I lived my life looking forward to one thing: going to Qatar. I found out I would have the opportunity to venture to the Middle East in late April, and ever since then that was the focal point of my calendar. Sure, I had other things planned – a trip to Amsterdam, a trip to Key West, another trip to Chicago, a marathon to run, a half-marathon before that, a dissertation to propose, several friends’ weddings, and friend reunions. But Qatar was the thing I was desperate to see and do and enthrall myself in.

And then I went. And it was awesome (and it has taken me over five weeks since returning to sit down and write about the experience, but I promise, it’s coming). But I got back, thought about my wonderful time there, and then continued lying in bed.

I think it is natural, if not always healthy, to live life living milestone to milestone. We anticipate upcoming big events like the ones listed above. But eventually, you realize you can’t sustain yourself that way. Or at least you probably shouldn’t.

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The Edge of 25: What's Next?

© 2015 As Told Over Brunch.