It’s uncommonly warm for an early October Sunday. But it’s California and most things are uncommon here. Normally I’m used to it, but this heat is the kind of heat that doesn’t move. It just sits there, holding you in awkward discomfort. The kind of heat that says “You’ve got a lot of things to do, but it’s such a hassle to move around, so how about you just lay on the kitchen tile with the dog?”
Through the fog of heat and fatigue that rolled in that day, I tried my hardest to remain mobile. I resorted to wandering around the house in a dazed sort of confusion. In a bout of desperation, I found myself in the garage, collecting and sorting the mail. {sidebar id=65}
I sifted through the pile half-heartedly, placing the letters addressed to myself in a separate pile. I slowly, carefully, thoughtfully, and deliberately commanded my feet to take me into the house and trekked back to my room, facing the pre-existing pile of mail I’d received in the past week. All of them regarding the same topic.
Approximately 15 brightly colored pamphlets lay piled high on my desk, all trying to persuade me to attend their fine learning establishment after graduation. I planned to sit down and dissect each letter carefully, weigh my options, the pros and cons of location, and all offered majors.
But of course, like so many other things in my life, it took only minutes before my plans had gone awry. My eyes glazed over half way through a thrilling paragraph about the campus life at the Kansas City Art Institute. I found myself grinning up at the birthday poster my friends made for me when I turned 12. They taped together scraps of old paper and decorated it to the best of their 6th grade abilities. It’s one of my favorite birthday presents. It takes me back to simpler, albeit embarrassing, times when I was about as concerned with my future as I was with my haircut (and if you’ve never seen a picture of my 6th grade self then count your blessings because it wasn’t a pretty sight).
My eyes then wander to a giant poster board that’s been drawn all over in bright permanent marker. It was another birthday present, this one from the summer before freshman year when my best friends and I were petrified of attending different high schools. I can remember many of the situations that were scribbled out on the board; being stranded at the mall on a weekend and faced with the challenge of feeding five teenage girls with only $7.38. Some of the other stories are a little fuzzy and I can feel my forehead muscles ache as I squint to remember the somehow forgotten tales.
The chronicles of my adolescence are countless though. There’s a story behind everything. The gaudy lilac color that I decided to smother my walls in, the curious stain in the far corner of my room, the rainbow Christmas lights that are hung up year round, the withered newspaper clippings and glittery stickers that refuse to be peeled off, are all legends of my past.
These four walls have been my sanctuary for as long as I can remember. And in just a few months, that might not be the case. I feel a pang of real regret for not letting myself stay a child for a while longer. Where was Peter Pan when I needed him? Why didn’t he tap on my window and woo me with a captivating line of “Come with me where you’ll never, never have to worry about grown up things again.”
I long to be back on a playground, with more determination and scraped up, bloody, and scabbed-over knees and elbows than I could ever have imagined. I wish I could revisit that day I slid through the mud on the field, laughing to keep from crying. I want a redo of the spelling bee where I misspelled “kitchen” in front of the whole 5th grade.
I’m less than excited to fill out my college applications or file my FAFSA. I’m way too nervous about taking my driver’s test. How on earth should I go about looking for an apartment? Where do I even begin job hunting? What type of graduation announcements should I order? When are we ordering our caps and gowns?
Where do I sign up to never have to worry about grown-up things again? Where was Peter Pan when I needed him?
