"When you grow up, Kimly? When is that going to be?"
It worries me a little (or a lot) that I still don't know the answer to this.
I had barely caught myself before saying it aloud on Sunday, which was fortunate because the embarrassment from my obvious lack of maturity might have been too much for my already belittled ego to bear.
Ten years ago, growing up meant doing your own taxes and living on your own. It meant drinking alcohol on a regular basis and driving yourself to work in the morning. I do all of those things, and still, there are moments when I still feel very much like a child, as though I still need someone to look out for me and take care of me. I'm not sure if feeling this way is necessarily a bad thing. Except come June, I won't have the safety of school to allow for screw ups and slacking off. There's no more putting things off and telling myself that I'll deal with when it comes around. There's this looming pressure to quickly grow up because around is soon.
And that terrifies me. And excites me.