You get told all the time growing up to enjoy being a kid, that it won’t be as fun once you get out in the real world and have to deal with real life.
I was never really one to stick to kid stuff growing up. I didn’t always want to play with the kids or sit at the kid's table. I wanted to hang with the adults and be like them.
Now that I am technically one, it doesn’t feel real. Sure, I’m in my twenties and have a degree and a full-time job and I pay bills and all that, but I still don’t always feel like an adult.
The independence that comes with adulthood is nice, and I’m out of the awkward phase that comes with middle school (and high school for some).
I like having my own space and being able to decorate and whatnot my own way, but I admit I miss living with family and friends like I have all my life.
But being the strong, independent woman of the house that I am comes with the downsides of having to be the one to deal with everything. The spiders, the grocery list, the cooking and cleaning, all of it.
It’s all a learning curve, some trial by fire, but I’m getting there. It’s all just another adventure, another story to tell later.
Or, you know, to put in the local paper.