I assumed that high school graduation would make me a grown up — didn’t happen. Of course, I now know that 17 is light years from grown up, but you couldn’t tell me that, I was 17.
Later I thought being a grown up came with the marriage certificate or maybe with the birth of that first child. Didn’t happen. After baby number two, I didn’t care about being a grown up I just wanted sleep. Still do. (Who doesn’t love a good nap?)
Grown-ups seem so pulled together — some of them are pulled a little too tight. Many of these grown ups appear to have a handle on where they are headed in this life. I’m trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up (and yes, I’m over forty, but I’m working on it) . Rock Star just seems a bit of stretch these days — I can pull off the big hair, but leather doesn’t work for me., and I can’t sing, not at all. Ask my daughter. There was the “I want to be an Olympic gymnast” period. I can’t touch my toes, never could. Right now I’m sticking with the writer stuff because it doesn’t require toe touching and you don’t have to wear leather to do it.
Feeling like a grown-up doesn’t intrigue me much anymore. I’ve met some grown-ups, I wasn’t impressed. I want to hang on to my Rock Star dreams– you just never know when the perfect leather outfit may pop into your life.