I graduated from high school last week.
(I think I should have graduated back in 2006, but who is keeping track anyway?)
Am I any different? It’s supposed to be a milestone, but for me, it’s more just a sheet of paper (the diploma, I mean). I’m not any different. I’ve had no epiphanies or life-changing moments.
I’m the same eighteen year-old girl with the same tendencies as I’ve been since December. And that milestone, turning into a legal adult, made me no different than I was before that.
I’m basically the same kid I’ve always been. I’ve lightened up, maybe. If anything, I may have gotten younger. I think I was born a solid thirty, but rather than getting closer to middle-aged each year, I’d like to think of myself as more of a mid-twenties kind of gal. I’m as self-sufficient as I can be at eighteen while I live with my parents, but I still shirk responsibilities I know that I can.
That’s change I can believe in.
I once tried to write a research paper on how people need to stop searching for the elusive happiness and smell the fucking proverbial roses. Contentedness is heavily underrated and we should appreciate what we’ve got.
(Needless to say, that’s a terribly tough thing to prove and cite sources for.) But it’s relevant, I swear!!
See, so far this summer, I’m the most comfortable I’ve ever been while killing time. That’s how I see summer, as the in-between time. Usually I hate that time. The interminable time spent waiting for something better. I’m at a spot now though where I’m completely okay with both where I am and where I’m going. I can’t wait until August and moving to New Orleans. But I reallllly genuinely like my friends. I like drinking and listening to Alanis Morissette. I like hitting up QuikTrip and the park. I like surviving suburbia. I take naps and smile.
I’m living the dream. And I’ve finally got the first of a few diplomas that say I can.