As I'm sitting here getting ready to type this, I'm trying to take a mental stock of everything that's in my kitchen right now because I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to make for dinner tonight.
And part of me is really wishing I still lived with my parents because I bet they're whipping up something super creative and tasty, whereas I'm pretty sure I'll be reheating soup and hoping for the best.
I don't go to the grocery store as often as I should; laundry stays piled up in the basket until I realize I've run out of clean underwear; and my car's been making this noise that I've decided I'm just going to ignore until my wallet is ready to deal with it.
First of all, I thought I'd be rolling in money, which just makes me laugh and also sort of cry to think about. Oh, to be young and naive again.
(I also figured that I'd be married and have kids by the time I was this age, but let's not open that door right now.)
And because you were young, you convinced yourself you would never find her again. So you started thinking about how you were going to make it on your own now — you know, as a seven-year-old with no parents — and you started panicking because you weren't ready for that kind of responsibility yet.
You didn't even know how to work the DVD player yet!
As I sit here, anticipating my own meal of microwaved soup and crackers, assuming they aren't stale yet, I can't help but wish that someone had given me a heads up about all this stuff. You know, told me life was gonna be this way.
(Clap clap clap clap clap)
