Hey, Life

People often lament that the twentysomethings of this world are greedy, materialistic bastards who are never happy with anything. I am so sick of this. Why on Earth do we judge people's "richness" on a monetary figure? Seriously. With the fall leaves starting to change, I've had a lot of time to think about my current situation and those around me. Strangely, I've pretty much managed to keep company of relatively sane, non-materialistic people, so I suppose I might not be seeing it head-on. I hate money. I hate everything about it.
I would be happy if I could just know that I would be in a stable situation, and in a few years have a relatively normal life. I want a house, I want a car, I want kids (peddle yer ass backwards - not any time soon). It seems that most people want these things in their late twenties / early thirties, and I know I should not be one to compare to everyone else, but I have to wonder if I'll be stable enough to even think about accomplishing anything before I'm like... a hundred years old. I don't exactly have the best track record.
I want a job I like, seeing as I have a degree that I like well enough. I want to go back to school eventually because I know I should have gone to university all along. And I will. Even if it's just part time courses while I do grunt work. Fine.
I want a computer on a nice desk where I can sit and write. I want things I've written already framed on the wall behind it. I want to stop relying on people for money, for food, for happiness.
I want to grow up. I hate how, indirectly, I will be three years old for the rest of my life if I stay here. I hate how the demons follow me here no matter where I go. It's rather amazing. I cannot live this life as it is anymore.
So, Sunday is a new start. Clean slate.
I'm scared as all hell but excited at the same time.
Hopefully in six months I look back at this period of my life in awe.
That's kind of how I look back on the past three years.