Hmmm, it was kind of settling in today that I am turning 25 this month. It's the first age that I have a distinct memory of noting when I was younger. I remember one particular dinner at my grandmother's when my uncle was about to turn a quarter of a century. He was reminded of this repeatedly in a variety of ways.
I remember thinking that by that age you had to grow up and know what you're doing. I've discovered exactly the opposite. I was much more focused and intense in high school. Now it's kind of wandering around going through the motions. I could live with Jodi for 10 years, or end up in Paris next month.
Grr, it's really exciting finding something you're really passionate about at a pretty young age, but it makes you wonder about times that are less so. Is it ok? Are you supposed to be looking for something? Are those rare times, to be treasured? Or the standard for how most things are supposed to be?
Are you talking to yourself?
Don't worry though, I'm not hearing voices yet. That's still a few years down the road.
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