So I had an epiphany today. And that definitely doesn’t happen often because I’m usually too lazy or tired to have any profound thoughts that go beyond “I’m hungry” or “I would really like to take a nap right now. How does one get away with taking a nap in the workplace?”
But anyway, my epiphany was this: I will never again have the opportunity to be ages 1-21 again. And you know what? Those are the best fucking ages. I am 22 years old and do you know what that leads to??? 23. That’s all. No one ever takes a moment to tell you that you’re essentially fucked after 21…which probably explains why your 21st birthday is often hazy and pukey because it’s basically your grand send-off. You know where you’re being sent? The grave. Only you have about 60-70 years to really think about your inevitable demise and oh by the way, you get wrinkly and saggy on top of it so you start watching infomercials and hosting lame skincare parties to prevent said wrinkles and generally sagginess. Sounds like fun!
My life used to consist of parties, trashy campus bars, and drinking…oh, and classes. I went to some of those too…when I wasn’t hungover or sleepy or hungry (Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, dudes). Now my life consists of bills. When you are younger, you accept the fact that bills must be paid…by your parents. You see the hilarious sitcoms where the mom forgets to pay the bills and the lights go out. In this Hollywood-fueled reality, it is understood that this is merely a comical mishap that was caused by a lovable but forgetful mailman who accidentally lost the bills (actually, this sounds like a pretty shitty sitcom but you get my point). In the real world, the lights stay off if you forget to pay the bills. It is this fear that prevents me from falling asleep at night (when, coincidentally, the lights are off) and forces me to be slightly anal-retentive when it comes to finances. This is also fueled by my crippling fear of credit card debt…even though it seems like all the cool kids are doing it!
I remember a time when I was constantly being asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be a dancer (which is probably every chubby little girl’s dream), a doctor, a writer, an actress (which is probably every attention-starved, chubby little girl’s dream), and an artist.
Do you know what I became?
An adult.
UPDATE: The boyfriend would like me to point out that he is my silver lining in the massive shit storm known as aging since I met him after I turned 21. Also, I am posting this of my own free will and I am in no way being forced to do this. Kinda. 
It's all butterflies and roses now, isn't it? Just you wait.
You have a boyfriend?
No, I just made one up because I thought it would make me seem cooler. Invisible boyfriend aka Eric says hi ;P
You should go to grad school and postpone adulthood before it’s too late!