Monday, March 16, 2015

Coping with Turning Twenty

I have about sixty-four days until I am no longer a teenager.  Part of me is like WOO! I’ll be a cool twenty-something, but then there’s panicky me running about, trying to find out how not be a grown up yet.  For starters, I am fully invested in trying to find out who ‘A’ is on Pretty Little Liars.  This is fully justifiable because I have been waiting to find out since I was a freshman in high school, and I’m going to be going into my junior year of college this year. 

Wow, panicky Julia is not okay with that sentence, but I digress.  I've begun collecting knick-knacks that have certain childlike qualities to them.  I have wee little potted plants that, to me, look like little elves would tend to them (I sing to these little plants daily to help them grow). I even ordered a tiny little watering can online so the elves will be able to pick it up.

I just recently hung five little pictures of adorable animals – including an otter, a ducky, a bunny, a squirrel and an elephant – right next to my bed.  I in fact plan to own a duck when I have my first apartment.  I like to believe that adult me won’t be regular.  I’ll have a part time yoga instructor job, a wacky apartment, be a freelance writer, and have ducks as pets.  I worry that I’ll wake up twenty and suddenly have a desperate thirst to sit behind a desk in a cubicle 9 am to 5 pm every weekday, wear pant suits, and care about what my cuticles look like.  I guess my framed otter picture is my teenage reminder to my future self not to be regular.   

I sometimes like to picture my older self and try to guess what I’d say to me right now.  I mostly think that she’d strut into my room, all stylish, long haired and fabulous and tell me that the future is great.  I married Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence sang at our wedding and Jo Rowling herself was there to tell me she was a big fan of my work.  

No comments:

Post a Comment