Musings on being a growed-up

So this whole being independent thing is a little weird.

Yes, before you ask, it has indeed taken me a little over a year to come to this conclusion. Shut up. It would take its time to hit you too.

And I am talking about real independence here, real living-on-your-own and occasionally ending up a little bit homeless and having to earn your own money and being well and truly screwed if you can't, kind of independence. Not going away to do a nice uni course and having people give you the requisite money for free, kind of independence. I am sure that can be pretty tough too. But I haven't done it so there is little point in me going on about what it is like. Because I simply don't know.

In any case. Basically what brought this on is this sudden sense of amazement I got today that I have managed, on a basic day-to-day level, to keep myself actually alive for the last fourteen or so months. You know? I've had to buy my own food, cook my own meals, put Mickey Mouse plasters on my own boo-boos... ok, no, but you know what I mean. For the last year, I have got up, almost every day, and dragged my ass to work, through wind, or rain, or scorching heat, or the occasional light and rather wussy Southern attempt at a flurry of snow. I have sat there and done my goddamn job, boring and horrible as some of them (although happily not the current one) have been, and I have come home afterwards, and done my own washing, and cooked my own food, and somehow managed to conduct a flourishing social life (and also watch a lot of Most Haunted, Walker; Texas Ranger, and, more recently, House).

Please don't get me wrong, by the way! Independence is a seriously brilliant thing. I live in a house with some pretty awesome people. And many other awesome people knock on the door and come in quite a lot. We quite often convene in the kitchen and have funny conversations which ALWAYS end up with one of us saying something about a giant willy. Also we leave messages for each other in alphabet magnets on the fridge ('benny smells a lot like a monkey from darren') and in the steam on the bathroom mirror ('flaps'). We have barbeques and sing loud songs. Occasionally songs called "Fuck her gently." In the direction of the neighbours' window. At stupid 'o' clock at night. We drink quite a bit sometimes, and do silly things. Dancing around the living room to the music channels, whilst wearing a tambourine around our necks. Dancing on a genuine, professional pole dancing pole which Darren bought for his girlfriend and erected in the living room.
I can cook whatever I feel like. I can go out whenever I want with no warning and don't have a curfew. I can stay out at the Dungeon until 3am on a Wednesday and nobody cares (except me the next morning when I have to haul myself out of bed to go to work). I can stay up typing useless crap on the internet until 5am if I wish (yes, I have done this, yes, realising it was light outside and having to go to sleep was a horrible experience).

Also there are a whole lot of brilliant people around to keep me happy. Including a particularly brilliant person with spiky hair and a sexy black car. And more of a tan than I will ever have. So, please do not misunderstand me when I say 'independence is scary' because I am not really scared, and I am really very happy, and I like people, and I like things, and stuff. I am ok. I am good, in fact, despite admittedly some shitty things happening recently. I like to think I have dealt with and recovered from them admirably.

It is just a little scary that I've been doing the whole grown-up thing for two years now. Two years, people! That's a very long time. I kind of miss doing the whole not-grown-up thing.

It is with this in mind that I gleefully announce that I am applying to do a degree in Writing Popular Fiction at Southampton Solent University next year. So I can actually be a normal 19 year old, at last.
Actually, I will be 20 by that time.
Fuck.
But anyway. Student discounts, here I come!

Also education and blah.

In other news... Catherine is making me lasagne tonight. And then there will be a party.
I heart my life.