Lately I keep wondering when and if I will ever wake up and miraculously feel like "a grown up". My grandmother was younger than I am now by the time she was married with 5 children. I know that it's a completely different scenario, but it's still a interesting point of reference. Because here I am at 29 with chicken shit on my foot because I still don't have the foresight to leave slippers by the back door. Which is a pretty decent metaphor for a lot of aspects of my life that make me feel like I will never grow up.
Nothing to be sad about (I mean, not yet anyway), just something to ponder on a Wednesday night while I wonder if I will ever exist outside of the existential dilemma that seems to occupy my mind most of the time. I don't know if I will ever know what life is or if I will ever be satisfied with it or if I will ever feel that I am at the right place doing the right thing at the right time. And I have to simultaneously wonder if this is more of an internal or external issue. It's not even an "issue", just a lingering thought.