Adulthood is missing more people than you currently see. And nobody warns you about it, either.
I've got people scattered over half the world, who at different times were my everyday folks. And now, not. Adulthood is achieved at the point where those people you'd like to see outnumber those people you do see.
Or else, it seems like it must be. And some of my prototypical grownups would seem to have the same experience.
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Adulthood for me is feeling guilty about staying home when feeling sick. Like I did today.
Also, it's about being able to not see a soul during that day.
Also, it's about coming to terms with one's enjoyment of movies one shouldn't like. Fever Pitch for one. Just watched it again. Voluntarily.
Dear God.
Guilt about staying in bed, too.
All summer, all luxurious unemployed summer, I didn't sleep later than 7:30.
I was too scared I was going to miss something, or that I was wasting my time.
I hate to say it, knowing how you feel about Tina Fey, but 'Mean Girls' is my movie I shouldn't like.
Actually, I may be over my irrational hatred of Tina Fey. Expected chance at schadenfreude over her soon-to-be-cancelled series is almost too much to bear.
You should finish your piece for the site. We would like to showcase it.
Soon, my friend.
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