When I was a teenager I always imagined one of two scenarios when I reached 35.
1. I would be a productive member of society, doing lord knows what, but in a nice apartment (never a house) doing fun things and just chugging on the machinery of life.
2. I would be dead of an overdose before I reached 30.
It’s funny to see these romanticized visions we have of ourselves back in the infancy of our schooling age. Or, maybe, it’s just me.
Fun note: if I only expect to live until I’m 50, 70% of my life has already passed.