When did I become such an early riser? Seems like in my younger days you couldn’t force me to sleep before 3 am nor coerce me awake before noon. Now, though I rarely have a commitment to rise for, I am functioning hours and hours earlier than ever imagined. (And going to bed hours and hours earlier, I might mention.) Is this the definition of “growing up”?
I’ve always been ready for that next stage in my life long before it actually happened. Sophomore year of high school, when the rest of my older friends were going off to college, I was more ready to be there than half of them. I was sick of teen queens, worthless classes and an 8 to 4 that was governed by bells. I’d visit their universities, edit their latest writing assignments and wonder why I was being punished with two more years of an immature hell. Senior year of college, when my friends and acquaintances were still decorating in “college chic” - John Belushi posters, Corona lights and futons – my apartment was a shrine to Hobby Lobby, with real framed pictures and intricacies that were charming, not chintzy. I cooked real meals, avoided the Walk of Shame and graduated on time. And now, while just-out-of-college yuppies wake up with hang-overs every morning and are busy declaring what they think is their independence, I take walks downtown, attend community events and start book clubs.
I’m tired of feeling like I’m always one step ahead of my environment. I am forever outgrowing my life and will push ahead with zeal for the next adventure. This is probably why I can leave friends, cities and lifestyles behind at the drop of a hat. I’m moving too quickly and you need to keep up.
“I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving…We must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes
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