how young are you?
Tuesday evening. I need to do the dishes, but I want to sit down and write first. I went shopping for toiletries yesterday and school supplies today, so I'm a bit appalled at how fast money's been flying out of my hands. I definitely need to eat more meals at home this week.
After running around the block with my boyfriend and friend today for enrollment-related errands, I had lunch with my boyfriend in a place we don't usually go to. One old lady, a regular, I think, tapped me on the shoulder and asked, among other things, "How young are you?"
How young am I? I almost said 20, before I realized I was really 21. But really, sometimes, I'm a teenage girl. I hear one song and I'm 17 again, or 15, or maybe even 13. It's rather on the nose for me to meet someone who asked me that, just when I've been thinking, rather overdramatically, about the passage of time.
It just feels so weird being in my twenties already. I know I can keep myself alive from day to day, but really I'm just some kid. I've been yearning for my friends lately in the ways that I know we can't have anymore: seeing each other every day, being all up in each other's business face to face instead of through the phone. Ah, well. The passage of time, I guess. I better get back to the stuff I need to do. Immunology awaits.