I feel old.
I suppose now I can be considered a fully-fledged adult. After all, I’ve moved out of my parents’ house, I have a full-time job, and, I guess most importantly, I’m 100 percent financially independent and supporting myself. That’s weird to me.
I don’t feel like an adult. I’m a quasi-adult. Yes, I support myself, but I still won’t hesitate to run rampant on a college campus for a night or dance in public like no one’s watching, and I’m pretty sure my mind still works in the same way it did when I was 17.
I like it better this way. Because it’s too soon for us to grow up completely.
Last night, I went to the absolutely beautiful wedding of two of my dearest friends. It was so fun and so great to be a part of their happiness!!! However, one would think that a wedding would mean that we’re now adults, as well. And I guess technically, that would be right. But as long as we rock out to Ke$ha and “Call Me Maybe,” I’ve got to come to the conclusion that we will forever be young at heart.
Being a quasi-adult forever is fine with me.