>Reasons I do not act like a 22 year old and maybe should think about growing up a bit:
- I still live with my parents. (That’s getting resolved in 3 short months)
- I call said parents “Mommy” and “Daddy.”
- I don’t know how to fashionably dress myself. After four years at a college where it was acceptable to wear pajamas to class and five months working a job where a uniform is provided, I’m terribly lost when it comes to “adult” fashion.
- My hair is ridiculously long. Everyone tells me I would look older if I cut it, but I love my long hair.
- I whine.
- My social life is non-existent (except for Sunday night outings with friends from work.)
- And here’s the kicker: I sleep with stuffed animals.
Okay so really the point of this post is the last one. I know, I know, it’s terribly immature of me to sleep with stuffed animals, but I can’t fall asleep at night unless I’m clutching something (or someone, but he’s far away right now). Surprisingly, I developed this necessity after going away to college. But anyway, the important part is that now one of my three most dearly beloved stuffed animals is missing! I don’t know where he is. This is a picture of Coronel, named after the García Marquéz novel El coronel no tiene quien le escriba and given to me by my brother on my 19th birthday. Isn’t he cute?
But I can’t find him. And it makes me really sad, not only because he’s so soft and precious, but because I ALWAYS lose things. I still remember losing a locket that my cousin gave me for being in her wedding when I was in 4th grade. I lost a shirt with a red maple leaf on it that I bought in Cananda. I lost my jean jacket senior year of high school. I’ve probably lost 5 or 6 nalgene bottles, numerous pendrives (including TWO with my thesis saved on them), and sometimes I look at pictures of myself and think “Hey, where did that sweatshirt go?” or “I haven’t seen those shoes in ages!”
What the heck? Why can’t I keep track of things? It’s frustrating. You’d think that by 22 years old I would be able to keep track of my belongings. But now Coronel is lost. And I’m sad.