I've often written about how utterly stupid I find being an adult to be. You know, how much bills suck and how making big decisions is hard and all the stuff all the adultier adults already know about. But lately, this whole adult thing has been growing on me. As in, I think maybe I'm starting to figure out things. Gasp.
By no stretch of the imagination do I have all of the answers to anything, but I guess maybe I don't go around proclaiming that being a grown up is the stupidest thing I've ever done anymore. Instead, I'm actually rather enjoying this season of my life.
I used to sit and daydream about when life would actually start and when would I have a place of my own and when would I this and when would I that and yada yada yada. I used to walk through home goods sections of stores and wonder about the sorts of things I would have in my own house someday. What kind of plates would I eat off of? What kind of couch would I come home to sit on? Always imagining, never knowing anything other than eating off of someone else's plates and sitting on someone else's couches.
But recently I've been watching the HGTV shows that Netflix has obtained and it has caused me to do some rather large thinking. Nathan talks about buying a house in the area and coming up with timelines and we're talking about buying cars and taking trips and doing things that I knew someday I would be doing but all the while feeling like maybe it wasn't as real as I hoped it would be. Does that make any sense?
Like you sit on the front porch swing when you're little and you dream up all the big plans for your life and as you go through the years you think maybe those plans might actually never come to fruition and then you wake up one day and realize that actually, yes, you can go out and do those things and there's nothing stopping you anymore. Can I just say how freeing of a feeling that is? Like, is this even real life?
I used to believe that I was too little for a real house. You know, a "real" house would be too big for me. I wouldn't be able to reach the top shelf and people would come to my door and ask for my parents and I would shake my fist and be all indignant and say sassy things. But now, having a "real" house, (not just an apartment or small living space) seems like less and less of a distant daydream and more and more of an impending reality.
It wasn't as if I really believed that I would never have my own house, it's just that...I kind of believed I would never have my own house. Or car. Or what-have-you. Like it was all just beyond my finger tips. I could look and I could smell, but I couldn't touch it. Not yet.
And now, maybe, I'm the closest I have ever been. Dreams are starting to become reality. Adulthood isn't looking so stupid anymore. It's like, what is even happening to me these days, you guys? You guys! I mean, I still have no idea, but it feels awesome!