But at 22, I transferred to City Hall and taught part-time at my alma mater, and eventually left government to teach full-time, all while Gimmi was still studying in college. I felt sooo much older than 21 then, like I was actually an adult, heh, no longer the carefree teen. I think I even had a slight personality shift. Less bubbly, more stodgy, I guess. And no I don’t like this shift but it’s kinda hard to shake off.
Anyways I’m 25 now. Haven’t had any major personality shifts, haven’t crossed over any maturity lines… it’s weird. When I was younger, every year was distinct. An inch higher (or wider, narrower, depends), a new accolade, another milestone, a new crush, a new best friend, a new goal. Each year was so defined by newness. I can tell you exactly how different my 15th year from my 16th was, or my 18th from my 19th. But when I think about what’s changed between 25 and 24, or 24 and 23, I’m not too sure what to say. The years have all somehow blended. Like time goes faster, but change comes slower. I don’t know why. But I don’t like it. I feel shortchanged.
Is this what it means to be an adult???