Adulting is not really something that swooped down on me gradually; it decided instead to pick me up in the tornado of life. Charlie Brown's ever-quoted, "Oh, good grief," is something that has infiltrated my vocabulary of phrases, and I think I finally understand exactly why he said it the way he did. A little bit of helplessness mixed with a case of I-just-can't-stand-it-anymore anyone?

"Makeup is no longer a 'cool' thing," I laughed as I chatted with Tiffani over Facetime. "I'd be happy if I never felt like I had to put something on my face again."

My sister Alexandrea just got her second job (her first was joining in on the piano-teaching business, and my students have officially got  the best substitute teacher in the world), and now works at Starbucks. I grabbed an ice coffee (coconut milk, please) on the way home from the post office, and thought about how insanely normal of an idea this is to me now. I think the routine is possibly what  bugs me. I've always been an adventurer. An explorer. A person who appreciates schedules for what they're on- pieces of paper that can be torn or burned as necessary (note that I'm kind of joking. kind of.). And schedules are wonderful four days of the week, definitely. But those last three days? Those are swallowed by school and adult-y things that must be done, and oh my goodness, where did my time  go?! 

I think it's insane (insanely beautiful) how innocent a young mind can be- full of expectations and hope. But once you hit a certain age, there's something that happens that drains the eagerness from some things. Novelties like getting your ears pierced and running around in a dripping swimsuit to hand-wash all the cars in the heat of summer are no longer fun or even interesting things. I ran into the bank this afternoon, dropped off a letter to the post office, and immediately remembered I have taxes to file (which thought, let me be honest, can drain any energy I may have). There are different twists and turns that come with living life as an adult, and some days I just feel like I'm not ready to leave any or all security I'll ever know will exist. Other days I can't wait to start things on my own. Sometimes I forget how twisted and broken the world actually is and can be. Most of the times I'm reminded it's actually just life to live, and it's my job to be a healing whisper of a touch.

On the bright side, I have knobby knees (oh, so knobby) that I'm no longer insecure about. Baseball caps and sunglasses can save my day, and I'm certain they're socially acceptable accessories, right?All I'm saying is carpe that diem while you can, please. Because I'm nineteen years old and some days I feel as old as I could ever be..until those three blessed days come around again, and there's freedom and time to spin in circles under sparkling stars.