Most days I find being an adult 10 times better then being a kid. I paraded around my first white hair (that I found 3 weeks ago), I partied when I got my first wrinkle. I will tell you that every year I’ve lived past 18 has gotten better then the year before. I certainly enjoy all the trappings of adult hood including:
1. eating whatever I want (i.e. dessert for dinner, or breakfast, or all the time)
2. drinking (alcohol)
3. sex (and, as my grandma likes to call it “shacking up” I love practically living with my boy)
5. no bedtime
6. going wherever I want, whenever I want to
I truly love being an adult. But once in a while I hate it. Like today. and yesterday. I’m having a dark day. I want to stay in bed and cry all day and watch Grey’s Anatomy and only get out of bed to make hot chocolate (okay, mocha’s, I am still and adult). I want to not have to work out or be nice to other people or think of anyones feelings or whether or not any vegetables are included in my diet. I want it to be okay that I can’t come up with a good reason for feeling like crap. I don’t want to get out of bed and go to work, or pay my student loans, or answer emails or even take a shower. I want to have a dark day, alone, under my comforter and cry until my eyes swell up and then pass out in exhaustion and wake up tomorrow to be a better adult then I am today. But that’s not going to happen. Because I’m not 6 years old.
I may still drink mocha’s all day though. And screw vegetables…