From your apartment into mine

From your apartment into mine

I'm going back to school in two weeks and I'm not ready, not ready, not ready.  The other day I was out with my mom and my sister and I was grumpy and I whined at her, and we were in public and I realized that I'm 19 years old and I can't act like that anymore, because I have 15,430 followers on an internet blog and I have a job where I pick up after children who whine all day, and growing up is absolutely fucking terrifying.  It's strange to think that two summers ago I wrote the words that became my college application essay, the one that Ann said that she liked and then she told me that I had to work on being an introvert in college, and I hadn't realized until that point that I was writing about introversion because I'd never thought about it before.  But now I think about it all the goddamn time and I've realized how much I think about everything all the goddamn time, but I'm really stupid actually.

It's late and I'm not going to proofread and I like my sentences like this anyhow, because this is how my brain is and screw off if you don't like it.  I wish I could be that way in real life.  I wish my real life was more life-y.  I don't want to leave home and my dogs and my bed and my free time and I don't want to leave the people at work because it's nice not talking about Plato for once and isn't that weird?  Maybe I've pointed my life in the wrong direction.  But maybe it's too late to change it.