Growing Up

Growing up is a mixed bag.  On one hand, you have independence.  You can eat pancakes for dinner every day of the week.  You can go where you want, do what you want, be whoever you want. You could jump in your car right now and drive to the Grand Canyon if you wanted to.

The problem is responsibility.

Responsibility is a pesky little jerk who is always on your shoulder whispering in your ear about finances, careers, interviews, insurance, school, and the “future”.  Responsibility tells you that you need to do laundry instead of watching a Dr. Who marathon.  Responsibility tells you that you need to go to work instead of hitting the snooze button.  Responsibility is the wet blanket of the world.

I guess that’s part of growing up though, constantly having responsibility ride shotgun.  The thing is, as much as responsibility sucks, it also makes us better versions of ourselves.  No one wants to be the wishy-washy girl.  You know who I am talking about.  The girl who texts you to hang out and when you show up to the restaurant/coffee shop/mall and check your phone, she’s texted you:

“super busy, can’t make it. sorrrrrryyyyz. ): ): next week 4 sure!”

You don’t want to be wishy-washy girl.  You want to be strong, independent, put together, responsible girl.  Still, at this moment responsibility is a big pain the behind.  Where are the days of being a teenager – rolling out of bed at eleven, eating toaster waffles, and watching America’s Next Top Model marathons on VH1?

Right now, growing up seems like trail mix with mostly granola and only a few M&M’s and raisins.  Here’s to looking for the M&M’s.

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