Hezah, 26

I have a good feeling about 2012, a real good feeling. I also have a good feeling about my impending twenty-seventh year. I don’t know why I do this. Every since I was little, I have assigned a positive, negative, or neutral sign to the age I was turning.

For example, I LOVED being five. For whatever reason, I though being five was tits, and when six rolled around I wasn’t having it.  Six was not going to be a knock out year for me, and I could just tell. I remember standing in one of the many daily kindergarten lines, soliciting my thoughts to an unsuspecting friend. I told her I liked being five, and I just didn’t think I was going to do six this year. Unfortunately, here I am at twenty-six.

Aside from growing some boobs and learning to drive, among other things, I don’t think much has changed in twenty years. I still feel like a little kid most of the time. When I sit in most restaurant booths, I crawl in on my knees and my feet barely graze the floor. I always assume everyone is older than me, and I stretch my gum out to the length of my arm. I still eat in front of the TV, sitting on the floor with my back against the couch, only now I’m watching Bravo bullshit instead of Urkel and friends. I love finger foods, elementary school style snacks, and have an inexplicable affinity towards Hello Kitty.

Point being, I’m doing a decent job looking and acting the part, but recently I am just not feeling the real deal. Whenever I have to dress up, I feel like a little girl playing with mommy’s heels and makeup. I feel downright silly out of my typical twelve-year-old garb. Maybe I need to get more method; go live the life of a soccer mom or an executive for a day.

Without even realizing it, I made some pretty significant growth in my career this past month. Today this landed me in a meeting with very upper management. I felt like a big kid; you know, like a sixth grader. It’s Friday today, which means I take the liberty of dressing in exactly the same way I did in college for lectures. As you can imagine, this isn’t the best look for me. I didn’t realize I’d be having this meeting when I put on my t-shirt and disgusting Converse. I even found myself taking notes, and making valid points, whilst sitting “Indian style” in my office chair.

Who am I??

Why can’t I be a grown up in a professional work environment, let alone my every day life? I can’t tell when it will click, that I need sit up straight, wear high heels, and slide ladylike into the diner booth. Maybe it’s just who I am; I’ve got a case of the Lost Boys.

Most likely, I think I will wake up one day and realize that I’ve grown up, become an adult, lost the childlike wonder, forgotten how to imagine, get dirty, or just plain let loose. It will be so slow; I’ll never see it coming. But when it’s gone, I’ll wish I had it back….Maybe.

For now, I’ll hang on to being an overgrown child for as long as can…even in front of the CEO.