Don't get me wrong, I love eating candy for breakfast and not having a curfew and the "money of my own" thing, but there are really some times when being an adult rots and I just don't want to do it anymore. Can I take ten please? or, like, a week? I don't want to get up every weekday morning and exchange lame pleasantries with the same people I see forty to sixty hours a week. I don't want to have to not drink on Sunday night because I volunteered to cover a trial for one of my partners on Monday morning. I don't want to have to wear heels and skirts every single day (okay, fine, I do want to wear that stuff most of the times -- but there are just some days when I really really miss pulling on a T-shirt and cute jeans and flip-flops.). I don't want to spend nine hours a day in front of my computer. NONONONonononon DON'T WANNA!
Whew. That was tiring. But my point was -- this morning, I was so tired of it all that I drove past the entrance to my office four times, blasting GnR the whole while, trying to convince myself that yes, I really had to drive in and park and go into my office and act like a rational adult ALL DAY LONG. and well into the night. While thinking about how boys suck and why I wanted to throw rocks at them... okay, him... okay, Irksome (what can I say? I'm not good at closing doors on people. especially people who are really quite gifted in certain, um, activities. yeah. WEAK. I know. shut up.) Oh God, what I wouldn't give to have a time machine that would send me back to college whenever I wanted, so I could loll around and drink and smoke a lot, not yet caring that SMOKING IS BAD and WILL KILL YOU, and sleep until noon and then shop and read whatever I wanted to and go to parties to flirt with lots of cute boys... oh, sweet, sweet college. We never knew ye.
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