I remember my mother saying she would forever be 28. It didn't matter how many times the calendar read October 30th, she always said she felt 28. If asked, I bet she would still stand by that statement. I also now know exactly how she feels. Except I feel a little bit closer to 19.
There is a running joke between my fella and I that I am a "bad grownup." I forget to buy toilet paper, I fall (ahem) a year behind in filing my taxes, and recently have begun what I thought was only characteristic of teenager: bailing on perfectly good jobs without anything else lined up and no real plan or reason why.
This June, I will enter the last year of my 20's. And it's scary and depressing and I am filled with all kinds of insecurities about it.
But I also feel like good things are going to happen this year. Big things. Life-changing things. Because they have to. Because things have been really really shitty. And all things must come to an end, this too shall pass, blah blah, etc., etc.
And, I have decided I am the only one who determines what kind of adult I should be. So tonight, I will eat ice cream for dinner. Tomorrow, I will set the alarm for 8am but forgive myself if I want to hit snooze a few times. I will start the day with lemon water and morning pages. But most importantly, I will try to be present (because all any of us can do is try). I will try to enjoy this week, this day, this moment because no matter how we may feel on the inside, the days will continue to pass, and we were never promised many.
