Being a Grown Up

I have not been sleeping. Between the stress of finding a roommate, my kitten obsessively seeking love and my pooch who's slowly getting sicker waking me up earlier and earlier I'm beginning to resemble the living dead. And not the shiny pretty kind in the movies. I dream of a room like this, dark, warm, cave like and surrounded by the soothing sent of old books. Enough that I could escape into other worlds every night.

I've been dreaming about my ex(not the most recent one either) a lot, again. Not even my subconscious is safe any more. It seems as soon as I close my eyes I'm warm and wrapped up in the familiar tattooed arms I fell in love with when I was 18. Things seemed so pure back then, so innocent and I was so naive. Now it seems every turn I make takes me one step further back.

Not to be dramatic, but there has been a serious amount of stuff going wrong lately. Not all big stuff, but little stuff like my power getting shutoff by a wayward electrician. And some stuff bigger, like my wallet being stolen this weekend. And as I sink deeper and deeper into the pit of slackerdom with school I get more and more anxious. I know I know, just do the work, and it seems like it should be that easy even to me. But when I sit down to write that paper or do that project I cannot seem to conjure up the motivation required. The truth of the matter is that in light of the possibility that I may not have a home at the end of the month, tonights history homework just seems less important.

In short, I want to escape, as I always have in times of trouble. I want to wrap myself in a blanket, shut the door and pretend there isn't a world outside. Sadly, this is not an option for "grownups" and while I can honestly say I don't feel much like one, it's looking more and more every day like that's what I've become. I'm tired of hearing how mature I am for my age, tired of the expectations and responsibilities that comes with. I don't want to be mature for my age, I don't feel very mature when at the moment my biggest impulse and the one I am just barely fighting is to get on the floor, curl up in a ball and cry, or maybe throw a good tantrum.