On my way

We're in the transition period of our lives. Fine. I get it. Sam's packing his sunglasses and Minnesotan accent to move to San Francisco, and while I'm mentally organizing my corner office overlooking Central Park, I oftentimes ignore the present. And yet, while "real life" seems so close, I still feel like half a person: too old to do some things (whine), and too young to do others (be taken seriously).

Maybe when I can replace "intern" with "assistant" or cut a wristband off my arm instead of scrubbing permanent marker off my hands I will inch toward real person-dom. Getting paid for what I do would be nice too. Or being responsible enough to own a pet--and that doesn't mean the possible mouse camping under our stove.

Sam's one step ahead of me, with graduation thisclose and a cross-country move on the way. Give me another year or two. I'm on my way, I swear.

-M