Not a girl, not yet a non-disaster

I’m turning 19 in two months. When you’re 18 years old and working in an office full of 25-40 year-olds, you feel a bit like Jennifer Garner in 13 Going on 30. Whenever I feel like I’m aging too slowly, I think back to when I was in 7th grade and fawned over the high school kids driving their own cars to school and parking in their own assigned parking spaces and eating nachos at football games and riding limos to prom, and how I couldn’t wait to be as esteemed and independent as them. Then I remember how quickly time has passed me by. Want to hear my worldly, grown up, cosmopolitan response to all of it?

Evidence that I’m a woman:

• I can put on earrings without looking for the holes in a mirror.
• I can give you a to-the-hundred estimate of what’s in my checking account at any given time.
• I don’t feel any desire to buy vending machine candy bars.
• I keep my keys on a hook and my jewelry in a box.
• I keep track of appointments on a calendar.
• I get really excited by Target’s kitchen supply section.
• My winter coat has a matching pair of gloves in its front pockets.
• I rarely eat anything containing neon food coloring.

Reasons I’m a kid:

• I think jeans belong on the floor. (Anyone who claims it’s convenient to fold them over slippery hangers or stack of them where they’ll never be seen is pretentious/lying.)
• I don’t keep bank deposit slips in my glove compartment.
• Regarding makeup, I haven’t yet found a balance between Completely Bare and Crack Whore.
• Sometimes I let empty toilet paper rolls collect into a cardboard tube graveyard instead of just throwing them away.
• It takes a lot of willpower for me to not purchase an entire cake from the Publix Bakery for no special occasion.

I don’t know how to make this transition in my life. Ingest illegal substances? Get a mom haircut? Listen to the second track of every Broadway musical recording, wherein the protagonist invariably sings about how something’s coming and they’ve gotta find their purpose and their corner of the sky and their one song glory? I don’t know.

I’m getting pretty good at not being a child, but I’m still awful at being an adult. What are women supposed to wear? Khakis? I know the applique sweater vests don’t come until later, and I think I’m supposed to own a lot of sparkly things for going to bars, but that’s as close as I’ve come to figuring it out. I’ll let you know if I wake up tomorrow with an insatiable desire to purchase control-top pantyhose.

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