I don’t want to be an adult any more.  I want to go back to being 5, when I thought I was Princess Leilani of Wailuku.  I was convinced that I was stolen away from my real family by some Australian interlopers who forced me to live with them, away from the people who really loved me.  Funny how these thoughts always seemed to coincide with my getting into trouble or when I didn’t get my way.

Not to get too caught up in the details but, my parents were the King and Queen of Wailuku.  I did grow up in Hawaii but I didn’t grow up anywhere near Wailuku (which is on Maui and I lived on Oahu) so my fixation with this random place was a mystery to a lot of people unless they watched television.  If you grew up with Saturday morning cartoons and infomercials, you will probably remember ads for commemorative plates and coins, CD compilations or those products As Seen On TV that you could only order by telephone or mail.  They usually ended with a blue screen of information for how to acquire these collectors items that would one day be worth enough so you never had to work again.  In Hawaii, the address where you sent your check or money order was in Wailuku.  Somehow from that, I created this rich fantasy world that the family who really loved me was waiting patiently for me to come home (while they mailed out CDs and commemorative coins).

I must still have an overactive imagination or subconscious because even though I have outgrown the belief that I am from a royal family, I have dreams that I am still in school and have another class and exam to finish before I can graduate.  The worst part of these nightmares is I didn’t even know I was signed up for the class so of course I haven’t been all semester and have no idea what will be on the final.  I can feel the terror to the depth of my soul and when I wake up I need time to process the fact that it wasn’t real.  If my sub-conscious thinks that I am still in school, can I just have an hour of recess please?  Maybe some tetherball and a swingset?  Let me be clear, I don’t want to be a creeper on a swingset with a bunch of kids.  I want to be the kids.  Homework was easy and naptime wasn’t frowned upon.  I also miss having my meals planned for me.  Granted I can eat sugar cereal now but I would give that up to know that I don’t have to think about what to eat for dinner.  Make that breakfast and lunch too.  This is why I turn to sugar cereal.  A bowl of Cocoa Puffs is way easier than defrosting chicken or something with nutritional value.  Although I am sure there must be some nutrients, somewhere.  In the milk?  I understand why my father eats the same thing for breakfast every day.  It is a toasted sesame bagel with three spreadable options – Vegemite, apricot jam or peanut butter.  He doesn’t have to think about anything except making sure that he has enough of them in the freezer.  He is nothing if not predictable.  If I didn’t have Starbucks, I would probably never eat protein.  Bacon gruyere egg bites are my sesame bagel.  Without them I would have even more of an iron deficiency than I already do.  My refrigerator is on par with a food desert.  The only fresh item is milk and I think I only have a few days left with this carton.  I could blame it on the travel and the fact that I am never home but that isn’t entirely true.  Food goes to my fridge to die.  It is better that I don’t buy it because then the guilt of not eating it is a moot point.  Or it goes into my freezer for a year or two where it will wait until I do a big clean out and it goes to the compost bin.  I blame my mother for this.  She does the same thing.  I remember when she froze cheese instead of throwing it away.  PSA – Don’t freeze cheese.

This whole adulting is hard situation has come front and center because I start a new job on Monday and I am a little nervous about going back into the real world.  I have been on hiatus for a while and it feels like I can barely tie my own shoes these days.  My vocabulary is a joke and my poker face is non-existent.  Scratch that poker face comment. Who am I kidding?  I have never had one, working or not.  At least I am not like my aunt who talks to herself constantly and the only saving grace is that she has a dog so it sounds like she is talking to her.  I *think* my inside voice really is inside.  Hopefully someone will tell me if it isn’t.  Or would that be worse?

Here’s to learning how to be an adult again.  Waking up early.  Eating breakfast.  Limiting my caffeine intake because I have to wake up early.  No more yoga pants and the option of not brushing my hair.  Maybe this time, I will make an effort and wear make-up.  #adultinggoals