I’m jealous of jackasses.
Those who choose to seize the day via public spectacle and go against the grain of acceptable adult behavior. Because now that I’ve grown I am expected to act a certain way. I should be polite and respectful; give up my seat on the bus for seniors and less able-bodied. I should iron my clothes and be able to discern between multiple forks on a table. I should drink good wine and talk politics. This is what might be expected of a professional woman.
Of course this is not a hard and fast rule. Nor, is it a bad standard.
When I was young all I wanted was to be older and now that I am, I’d give anything to be eight again. If only for a day.
I read that very sentiment in an old journal of mine the other day and I found myself repeating it to Jane.
“I just want to be eight again.” (More …)