I am nineteen years old celebrating the last of my teenage years before I can categorize myself as a twenty year old grown ass woman. I am at a stage in my life where I want to move forward so fast I skip a couple of years to get to where I want to be, where I am mature enough to be. Similar to grade school when you were tired and too smart for all the bullshit first grade brought you so your teachers bumped you up a grade or two to challenge you.
I want to be challenged. I want to experience a career. I want to live in a small apartment in San Francisco with a very hot man who wakes me up with breakfast in bed and a Sudoku puzzle. I want to buy freshly cut flowers every week and set them in a vase on the center of my kitchen table. I want to help people. I want to experience an “Eat, Pray, Love” quest. I want to go to the library or a coffee shop on the weekend and read until my eyes can’t focus. I want to learn how to cook. I want to travel to different countries and learn different languages. I want to move forward. But to move forward, I have to wait.
Waiting is hard. I am impatient. I like things to happen instantaneously, but waiting makes everything so much more attractive. Thinking about all of these things I want, all of these things I am working so hard to attain, waiting is perfect for me in this moment. Right now I am going to enjoy my youth before my youth is gone and I am stuck in my small, San Francisco apartment with my hot man and my watered flowers wondering where the time went.
Music Choice: “Don’t Know Why” – Norah Jones. She is my girl. Norah, you’re my girl you soulful thing you.