I see most of my friends on social media sending their kids off to college, which only confirms the fact that I had/have arrested development. My kids aren’t far from the womb. My Peter Pan complex runs deep and is strong.
Though I continue to physically age, unlike Benjamin Buttons, and I seemingly (read: maybe?) make my way as a parent and human in this world, I legit hate adulting. I often ask my friends, “Wait, what if you woke up tomorrow and you were still in college? Would you be SO happy???”
They laugh or sneer. I can tell they don’t agree. So, I feel compelled to follow that up with, “No, I mean, obviously I’d have my same kids and husband later, but you know what I mean…” OBVIOUSLY.
I want to smoke cigarettes in a dorm room under a tapestry, read Plato and Camus and contemplate life and death, drink a 40 oz of Bud Light in a bag, eat frozen yogurt and bagels every day, and go to a frat party at night.
Is that so bad?
I want to be a selfish baby, who only cares about herself. I want to wonder what I will be when I grow up. I want to make mistakes that don’t actually matter or affect the course of my life. I want a magic eraser.
How about you?
