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As I was drifting off to sleep this afternoon I realized that I'm not really a kid anymore. I don't think of my self as an adult at all, bright red shock of hair, overalls and jog bras my favorite wear, If I was to guess I would say I'm eighteen, maybe twenty, but never twenty-seven. But, this afternoon I realized that waitresses don't treat me the same way any more, somewhere along the way they accepted me as an adult, and someone to be believed. And, I'm not really sure what to do with that.

Part of me is happy that I am finally being treated with more respect, and part of me wonders what all this means. I don't know how to live as an adult. I only know how to live as me, but even that has changed without my noticing, I try to be honorable and fair with my dealings with others in ways I never considered before.

I have finally found peace with myself. I finally live in a world surrounded by caring friends, even if some of them are thousands of miles away. But I don't know what to make of this adulthood thing. I don't think about it much but every now and then I'm reminded of the fact that thirty is just around the corner, that they will actually let me buy a house, that getting married isn't that crazy of an idea, illegal, yes, but not crazy, and that the next person I fall for may be the one I spend the rest of my life with.

Life has taken on a sort of permanence it never had before. The moment I live in, now has the potential to spread across a lifetime.

I don't understand this adulthood, but for now I won't worry about it. My life is good.