It’s all just strange. This is the first time I’ve lived on my own. Actually on my own. I love having my own place. I get to decorate how I want. I don’t have to worry about other people leaving their dishes in the sink for days on end. Everything is always right where I left it.
BUT. I don’t have my parents around to pick me up if I miss the last train home. No roommates to vent to after a truly heinous day at the office. No one to wake up in the middle of the night when the bathroom ceiling starts gushing water (unless you count emergency maintenance, but they’ll just tell you to calm the fuck down because there’s no way they’re coming all the way from Maryland unless someone’s life is on the line).
At first I missed everything. And I still miss a lot of things. My family. My best friends are strewn across the country, and it sucks that I can’t share every aspect of my life with them. I’ll say it–it’s kind of lonely.
Intimidating, this whole growing up thing. I have to put myself out there. Get out of my comfort zone. And I have. I mean, I’ve tried, at the very least. It has paid off, for the most part. Meeting new people, learning new things. But I’m making a lot of mistakes. Yes, this is part of growing up. Becoming who I am, finding out who my true friends are, blah blah blah. It’s hard though, you know? I don’t know when the fuck I’ll have things figured out. I’m trying to learn to be okay with that. It’ll happen eventually. Or it won’t. Whatever.
I meant for this to be my triumphant return to “regular” (LOLZ) blogging. But DEAR GOD, it’s become borderline depressing. I’ll be more fun soon, I promise. It has been A DAY. Wine helps. Always.