I don't like growing up. What was I ever thinking when I was 12 years old and thought this would be so much better? Hardly anything seemed real, as though it would all eventually flutter into oblivion like the smoke from your birthday candles and you'd move on to the next fairytale. But when you're an adult things seem to take quite a different physique. Responsibility and expectations become real; the lose of people and opportunities become real; having your heart broken becomes very real. They become real in a way that you know they're not going away because even the ones you experienced when you were young, and would fade with time, have found a way to work back into your world.
I'm quite overwhelmed with life at the moment. I don't even know what I could pinpoint as the cause of that.....except growing up. This gets to me often so I won't continue to elaborate. The new job is underway, and there's a lot to remember and focus on, which is typically expected with jobs. I naturally have all kinds of worries that haven't even arisen yet. Such is my nature. But I have a job. I have a job. And as many things that worry me as I get older, its nice to know that I can still find great pleasure in small things.
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