“Jenna, oh my gosh, why didn’t you put on a little lipstick before we left the house?”
I don’t know what scares me more, the idea of being an adult and failing to pay my bills on time every month, or being a child forever. Most people bask in the idea of returning to their childhoods, which is understandable because being young is easy, but being young came with a whole lot of downsides. We were just too naive to notice. I want to be fully trusted, but how can that be when I can barely trust myself? I want to be seen as responsible, and totally in control, but how can that happen when I can barely take care of myself or have control over my own life? Being mature is scary, and I thought I was cut out for it, but I’m not. I can’t imagine working long shifts and having all of the money you make leave your grip almost instantly to bills, and payments of different sorts. Where’s the fun in that? I can’t imagine having to come up with something to cook for myself everyday when all I do now is turn to quick microwaveable dinners. I can’t imagine exchanging my band tees in for formal blouses and suits. Maybe i’ll never make that last change, but either way I could never imagine it happening.
Now if you’re wondering what the first sentence in this post even had to do with any of this content at all, the truth is that I don’t know. All I know is that as my mother spoke those words the other day I thought to myself, “I guess wearing lipstick shows maturity, and that’s what my mom things I should portray.”
I am mature, just not at all mature enough.
Just for humorous purposes I’ll let you in on a little secret. As I type these thoughts out I am wearing an old Nirvana shirt that I must have had since middle school. Isn’t that ironic? Soo mature.