... I'm utterly terrified somebody's gonna figure out I'm faking this whole adult thing and oh snap I'm busted.
It's the funniest thing. I'm old enough to be an adult, technically. I gots all the side bits that qualify me. But do I feel it?
I still feel like the kid that rolled out of bed on Saturday morning, grabbed her raccoon and set out for the creek on her appaloosa. The one that stick and balled late into a Thursday night in the warm summer air. Shoot, even the one that walked from her Gran's house to the library in the BIG TEXAS CITY: population 1500 (if you visit on a day the immigration police didn't stop by).
When did all this time pass? And how have I *not* become more patient as time goes by? You'd think I'd get all zen about it and be over the whole waiting thing. But I'm as impatient as ever, still waiting on things, still doing everything.
Isn't it the weirdest thing?
Do you ever have that feeling?