I knew this moment would come, but I feared it. I resisted it with every fiber of my glittery being. I stalled; I fought; I decorated my living room with a fuzz art poster of a purple and pink unicorn. But no matter how hard I tried, it still happened. I’m growing up. I’m becoming more “adult” and I don’t know what to think about this.
The realization came with the fact that I can’t see The Rocket Summer perform tonight because I have class. There was no question about whether I would go; my commitment was to Business Law, not Bryce Avery. The last time I couldn’t see TRS due to a conflict of schedule (SLJ’s conflict, not my own), I threw a minor tantrum (rather unbecoming of a 20-year-old college student). And today, even as I try to feel disappointed about it, I’m not… It’s not for any lack of love for Bryce; just this morning I popped in “Calendar Days” to accompany me on my 30-minute trek to work. It’s just that it’s the way life is, and, well, I’m okay with it
I imagine this is what it means to be a grown-up, accepting that there are simply things that can’t be done and not feeling all that upset about it. The only thing I feel kind of disappointed in is that grown-upism is taking hold of me. I find myself feeling a little more like a legitimate adult every day. And what really bothers me is that I’m starting to be okay with it. Maybe it’s time to pull out the blue tutu, ninja paint, rubber ducky tie, and pink feather boa…