You Grow Old Beautifully

Time keeps marching on.

Last night, I realized I'm about to be 19. That's so weird. I feel like I've been 18 forever. I feel like it's been so long since I've changed ages. It doesn't feel like any time has passed. I saw an old friend briefly on Friday, and as I drove away, I realized that it had been over a year since I had last seen her, but it felt like only a summer. Like I'd be in classes with her at Leon again in a couple weeks. My mind is in denial.

I guess I'm excited about school starting. I'm having seriously mixed feelings. My memories are not that pleasant about last year, so I'm wary about going back, but at the same time, I don't understand how people do it. I don't understand going to work day in and day out with nothing except weekends and holidays to look forward too. I don't know if that lifestyle is going to work out for me. Is that something that you get more content with as you get older? Is that the feeling of settling down? It's so foreign to me, I don't even know what to do with myself.

And also, I don't want to leave the people I met this summer. I'm closer to the people I work with than anyone at school right now, and I've only known them for a couple of months. I wonder what's different. I wonder if things will change. I wonder if having Keith there will help at all, or if he'll thrive and I'll continue to wonder what's wrong with me. Hopefully this year will be better. I just have so many reservations. I don't understand why it's so easy here. I made friends with Claire and Kelsi the same way all people make friends. You start talking; you find you have things in common and like each others company; you hang out. Why is it harder when I'm five hours away?

On a different note, I finished Blindness last night and started Enduring Love. I'm only a chapter into it, and already I love it. There's just something about the way Ian McEwan writes that completely captivates me. As the book says, "He writes in a way that anyone who writes will envy." It's like it was effortless. I know better than to think he wrote it like that the first time he sat down, but it feels that way. As if no editing is necessary. As if he lives his life in prose. Simply beautiful.

I need to do some serious cleaning today. I need to start packing my room. I need to do laundry. I need to go to the Devil's Playground and pick up some things. It would be so nice if money grew on trees.