Boring Adult Things

Oh Hi There – I Hate You

No, not you. Not my dear reader.

I hate you, my first two wrinkles, appearing unexpectedly on the right side of my forehead.

No, I don’t forgive you for intruding on my bathroom mirror image, appearing as a reminder of my stress and new, wonderfully startling march toward bodily decay.

I think it’s really uncool that you pop up as a result of ongoing mental anguish and probably some body abuse over the course of a woman’s lifetime. We women who operate under anxiety are warriors, dammit, and you’re just the icing on the cake. It should be people who are carefree hippies prancing through lily fields that get wrinkles; they’ve got everything else going for them – it would be like some sort of karma to even out the stress levels in the world.

I shouldn’t care about these evil monsters creeping their way across my forehead, but I do. I’ve grown up as the baby of my friend groups; the oldest of my family but the impressive ingenue of my peers. College at a young age is a great carpet ride of surprised guffaws and easy darts to the finish line. The expectations are low for the kid who’s consistently 2 years younger. Yes, I did start my first job before I was able to (legally) drink; oh, humble humble, it’s no big deal. Whether I was good at it is irrelevant.

Well, it was a big deal; it was a big deal to me. Not to outright impress other people, but to feel like I was somehow ahead in the race against the world. Beating myself out against my own goals and sprinting toward some untold finish line that now has slowed me to a crawl. I’ve realized that in this marathon I’ve made into a sprint, the finish line is death, and it’s prefaced by a long, long jog uphill once you get about 1/4 of the way through. Adorable.

Needless to say, I’m not the girl who will age gracefully. As always, I will age willfully. There is little in this world I haven’t achieved when my mind is set on it, and now I’m wearing that fierceness on my face. So fuck you, little wrinkles; I’ve got bigger fish to fry. And if I decide to blast you away one of these days with some poison in my head, I will give zero fucks. This is my life and you two little assholes are just living in it.

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