At 32...

...I still procrastinate on homework.

...sometimes I still browse in the juniors section when shopping. My sisters make fun of me for this, but every now and then I find something cute that goes with my "style." Don't worry, I don't dress like a 16 year old. At least, I don't think I do. I've taken preventative steps by making peeps promise to alert me if I start wearing inappropriate items for my age.

...I yell out "FUCK!" in my apartment when suddenly I become even later for work after tipping over the small garbage can filled with used cat litter all over carpet in front of the bathroom doorway. Choosing to clean the cat box 30 seconds before I want to run out the door probably isn't the wisest decision, but I reserve the right to be pissed off when things don't go my way. Blaming my cat for even existing, I then stomp over to the closet to wrestle out the vacuum cleaner, because I can't LEAVE the apartment with that mess sitting there. Spend angry three seconds running the vacuum across the floor, muttering to self, before picking up my bags and slamming the sliding glass door shut behind me. I lock the door and turn to see the neighbor standing in the driveway as she prepares to leave on her moped, staring at me with a look that says, I heard you screaming FUCK! in your apartment you lunatic. I smile pleasantly, nod politely, and walk to my car as though nothing ever happened.

...I feel entitled to have things go my way, especially after going through a streak of bad luck. You see, my misguided internal recording system operates on the notion that the good and bad in life should all balance out. I assume everything must be fair, you know? It's like the Universe is my boyfriend, and I keep a mental tally/score of all his wrongdoings, like, say, forgetting my birthday, so then I'm waiting around for that big bouquet of flowers and profuse apology and other stuff to make things right again. Yeah. So, when I get in car after cat litter incident and discover that the button to roll down the passenger side window in Trixie (what is up with this car?) no longer works, I think, God, you owe me BIG TIME. And, no, I wasn't rolling down my window to yell FUCK! at the neighbor for good measure. But it was tempting.

...I like to sleep in until 11am on the weekends, if I can. I love staying up until all hours of the night too.

...I am a nutcase without enough sleep. It isn't pretty.

...I find myself going into Barnes and Noble to look at books on vegan living with littlest sis, and end up leaving after giggling hysterically with middle sis over description of 'chunky' nipples on randomly selected page of a Penthouse letters book. Chunky? Could the author think of a less sexy word? That's the heel of a shoe, not that part of the body. It was unfortunate that the Sex shelves were directly across from Diet, as it proved distracting. "This looks like a good one on nutrition...oh look, Sex for Dummies!"

...I pretend to slam dunk my nephew Trav into his Lil Tikes basketball hoop. He loves it. Naturally.

...I build Olive Gardens with Trav (his favorite) out of Lego blocks, so his trains and cars have a place to eat. I like to tease him, because he always has them order mac and cheese and bread sticks, so I say, "Let's shake it up. How about lasagna?" He responds indignantly with, "No pisagna!" I love it. Pisagna! But, he starts to get mad when I try to change the menu too much. Cannoli? "NO CANNOLI!!!"

...being around my mom still feels like being home.

...I laugh like a school girl when someone uses the word 'tinkle.'

...I still laugh at people when they trip and fall. I'll probably be the old lady at the nursing home eagerly keeping watch in the lunchroom for tripping incidents.

...I continue to wonder how I got here.

...I wonder when I'll really start to feel like an adult.

...I believe there is always still time to reinvent oneself.

...I still like to stare up at the stars and smile at infinity.