So I guess I’m growing up. Although I still miss spell the word “guess” every single time. Thank god for spell check.
But I do my things I get things done. I remember my appointments and I make them and I maybe don’t balance my checkbook but i check my account balance before I buy anything. The thing is, in my head, I’m still sixteen.
I really like sixteen candles and better off dead. I think that army of darkness is a fantastic film. I miss animaniacs. I still think it’s scary talking to boys. Kissing is still more fun than sex. I love to cook and to bake, but my favorite part is still testing out the cookie dough.
I worry that I’m as grown up as I’m going to get.
I never wanted to be grown up grown up, but I thought one day maturity would come naturally to me. That it would stop being something that I have to work on. I can drink craft brewed beer and sniff at red wine like a pretentious asshole, but I’m still pretty partial to apple juice… and don’t even get me started on animal crackers.
I look nice in dresses. With my hair straightened and heels on. I look professional in my suit, buttoned up and tucked in with pants actually on my waist. I look like someone you wouldn’t mind taking to dinner at an upscale french restaurant… like someone who you would hire to work for you.
My favorite outfit is my jammie shirt that reads, “Dangerously Cheesy” I worry that my love of comics and the fact that I have trouble reading the newspaper will eventually reveal the fact that I am not as together as my nice clothes make me look.
The people where I work have never seen me in my jeans and tank top with my flip flops on. I remember when I came to class dressed for work because I had to go right after and the girl who sat three isles over thought I was a special presenter. When she saw my face close up she said, “Oh wow Sara, nice.”
And I felt good for all of three seconds. I looked good yeah, but I was only faking. Is everyone just faking maturity?
Still… I think it will be ok.
“Why do you think that?”
“Oh who knows where thoughts come from… they just appear.”