I feel so old. At lunch today, I looked around at all these 12 year-olds in the restaurant and asked Megan, “Is school out today?” She looked at me, eyebrows raised and said, “No, why?” Just as I was about to explain, one of those 12 year-olds drove by in a BMW. And I mean drove. As in behind the wheel.

That’s when I began to feel old. And I know I’m not old. I have a lot of friends who are in their mid-30s and they always roll their eyes when I say stuff like that, so I don’t mean that I’m some old man. I know I’m just 22, and really very young, but it just feels old when I’m thinking to myself, “Those kids are about 5 years younger than I am.” Which is true, but I’m thinking, for some reason, that I’m 17 again. Why is it always 17?

Maybe I just don’t think I’ve experienced any personal growth since then. Seventeen was one of those ages where a lot changed in my life. I learned a lot, and I don’t really feel like I’ve grown any since then. At least not substantial all-at-once growth.

When I was 17, I came out to my parents, I bought my first car, I got my first real job. I’d already been out to friends for a year. I finally felt like I was on my way to adulthood. The problem is that I still feel like I’m just on my way, and, despite the job and two-year-old relationship, I’m not ready to be all the way there yet.

Sometimes you need to just fuck around. Even if you’re old. And I don’t necessarily mean that literally.