Seeing a '1' next to an '8' on my birthday cake makes me feel as though I should've accomplished something big by now, like writing a novel or running a marathon. In truth I haven't even managed to cover some of the smaller coming-of-age tasks, like learning to drive or finding my ideal scent. I expected to feel different but really nothing has changed. I'm still me, just one year older and as responsibility looms further and further over my head I can't help but feel disappointed that I'm eighteen years into life and still haven't mastered the ability to complete homework before it's due date.
Maybe I'm frightened about the daunting year ahead of me and that this time next year I could be someone so incredibly different. In some ways I'm excited to flourish and spread my wings, as it were, but in other ways I wish life could be as simple now as it was at age four. I didn't have to worry then, about building up a 'no claims bonus' or applying for health insurance. Instead I found delight in sand castles and milky cappuccino foam.
I could say that we take those pure moments for granted, except that would be a lie because really I think we acknowledge their importance when we most need them, and the nostalgia they bring. Although it would have been nice for eighteen to provide me with longer legs and slimmer, model-like arms, I guess that any other drastic change wouldn't have been encouraging for me, to develop as a person, as someone with a lot of world to explore.
So I can't complain.
But I can drink cosmopolitans.
But I can drink cosmopolitans.
G.
Seeing a '1' next to an '8' on my birthday cake makes me feel as though I should've accomplished something big by now, like writing a novel or running a marathon. In truth I haven't even managed to cover some of the smaller coming-of-age tasks, like learning to drive or finding my ideal scent. I expected to feel different but really nothing has changed. I'm still me, just one year older and as responsibility looms further and further over my head I can't help but feel disappointed that I'm eighteen years into life and still haven't mastered the ability to complete homework before it's due date.
Maybe I'm frightened about the daunting year ahead of me and that this time next year I could be someone so incredibly different. In some ways I'm excited to flourish and spread my wings, as it were, but in other ways I wish life could be as simple now as it was at age four. I didn't have to worry then, about building up a 'no claims bonus' or applying for health insurance. Instead I found delight in sand castles and milky cappuccino foam.
I could say that we take those pure moments for granted, except that would be a lie because really I think we acknowledge their importance when we most need them, and the nostalgia they bring. Although it would have been nice for eighteen to provide me with longer legs and slimmer, model-like arms, I guess that any other drastic change wouldn't have been encouraging for me, to develop as a person, as someone with a lot of world to explore.
So I can't complain.
But I can drink cosmopolitans.
But I can drink cosmopolitans.
G.
.
Sunday 26 February 2017
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