So I am at home by myself on a Saturday night. My mom is away for the weekend. My go-to friend is away as well, does that sounds bad? go-to friend? anyway... I am thinking about how as a college graduate I am the stereotype, I moved home.
I am in my mi-mid- oh man my midtwenties now, wow that is hard to grasp. I was working at the video store last night and my new manager said he felt older than he was at 22 and I said that I do not feel as old as I am. I seriously do not, high school in some ways feel like yesterday, not seven years ago. It is weird, time just keeps going and I, in some ways feel as though I cannot catch up. It is an odd feeling, hard to describe.
Back to the subject at hand. I am the stereotype. I live at home. I am not completely ashamed by it. It is the sensible decision to make. But I also wonder if any self-respecting boy is going to find it remotely attractive. But then I also think that I do not really care because right now, to be completely honest, I am not looking for anyone, in that sort of way. These are the ramblings of my mind, after two glasses of wine and some solitude!
Stay tune for some more! My mind is always a going.
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