17 and a Half {My Cubicle Has A Swivel Chair}

The other day, two of my coworkers were giggling uncontrollably over something. Once they got themselves under control, they said that I was probably thinking "grow up, you guys". I laughed and reminded them that I'm only 17, leading to a (frequently held) discussion of how I'll only be 17 when I move away from home. My instinct in this situation is to say that I'm 17 and a half, but I suppress it because I'm pretty sure it would make me seem younger, not older.

A recent theme in my life seems to be the contrast between adult and childish things. For example, the other day I was at the mall, and felt the unprecedented desire to look at the houseware section of Sears. It was a weird feeling. After verifying that Sears does not in fact carry extra-long twin sheets, I was strongly tempted to walk down the up escalator on my way out of the housewares section.

Why do I need extra-long twin sheets? For my bed in my APARTMENT. The one I payed for, with a credit card with my name on it, that I will be living in, without my parents. Yeah. Paying for my apartment didn't feel weird at first, until I realized that babysitting is still one of my top 5 sources of income. So essentially, I'm buying college textbooks and paying rent and everything, partly with babysitting money. It's a weird dichotomy that keeps showing up in my life right now.

I remember waking up on my fourth birthday, and staring at my four-year-old hands. Overnight, my hands had transformed from three-year-old hands to four-year-old hands, and I was now old enough to use the big spoon to eat my cereal. As a kid, you think life is like that. Maturity is something that you just wake up with one day, on your 18th birthday or the day you're done high school or whatever, kind of like how you wake up at 16 knowing how to drive and wake up at 10 as a "big kid". So I guess that one of the signs of maturity is not expecting to suddenly put away all childish things. Every time I ask myself "What are you? Five?", there's still another part of me that thinks it can win the argument by saying, "No! I'm five and a half."