So there I was all packed up and ready to go. My life in Lubbock coming to an end, and a new thrilling experience awaiting me on the other side of this windy, dust filled road ahead. Yes, this is what real life is. This is the definition of adulthood.
I'm moving back in with my parents!
Here I am 21 and living the life. Recently quit my job with a news station that thought I was a bigger joke than a stand up comedy convention. And begged my wonderful boss at the boutique to hold onto me from all those miles away. My journey hasn't been the easiest one, and frankly what I'm doing now could be just another bumpy road, but for once in my life I feel good about my driving capabilities. Though my father who has worked on my cars and witnessed my wrecks would perhaps disagree.
Though this feeling did not come without haste... and tears... and anxiety... and any other heart wrenching feeling your mind can muster. No no, this journey of mine has been filled with quite a bit of kicking and screaming. Questioning my decisions. Having flash visions of my future (I was looking real slick standing under an overpass with a trash bag on my head).
Did you know that packing up your room which has accumulated junk for three years isn't easy? It is the exact opposite. Who needs 5 deodorants? I don't want to see another scarf ever again. That nice TV, might as well chunk it. But don't think about touching the clothes! I need all 240 items of fabric hanging in my closet. DUH!
But as comical as this whole process seems looking back, it really was quite a sad thing. See, most people pack up and leave right after graduation. All their family is there helping with the move. They are still stoked from walking that stage, and the empty diploma spool in their hand is all they need to conquer the universe!
That isn't the case when you are knee deep in a dead end career, graduated a year early but feel a year behind in life, and can't reach the boxes your dad stuffed in the attic two years ago.
It was sad. Sad to turn off my light to an empty room. Sad to toss that last box in my car. Sad to hug my roommates goodbye. Sad to pull away from the trashy Cottages for the last time (it is true, I will miss those broken bottle filled streets and neglected office calls). And what was even more sad... the six hour Taylor Swift concert I performed in my car while crying to the most ridiculous lines in her songs.
"But if God forbid fate should step in and force us into a goodbye, if you have children some day when they point to the pictures please tell them my name."
YUP! Bawled like a baby. Not because my friends have kids. Not because I am a famous singer and clearly this song relates to me. But because this is real life. This was the last time I will LIVE in that house with those girls. I have had my last night of Bachelor watching, and my last day of bumming around. There is no longer a need to distract people from homework and convince them that no class attendance policy is more important than hanging out with me. No more drunk knocks on my door at 4 a.m., and never will I witness another cake ball pillow being thrown at the most hungover member of 2023 C. These things will not happen again.
I understand it is a part of growing up. It came as no shock that I would one day move on. But something I didn't take into consideration was that when it happened, it didn't mean everything would be set in stone. This journey I'm embarking on could easily lead me back to square zero, or it could be just crazy enough to work. Either way, I can say one thing for certain... I am 21 and have it all figured out.
YEAH RIGHT!
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