A lot of things continue to amaze me about my life now. I’ve graduated from college. I’m a grown-upCIMG0609–when did that happen? Because I don’t feel like one a lot of the time. Yes, I technically have a lease contract, and I’ve learned the ins and outs of dealing with my property manager when I still don’t have curtains four months after moving in, our oven is broken, and our heat still hasn’t been turned on even though it’s been snowing. (Persistence, to the point of obnoxiousness, is the key, it seems.) I have a job, but a job where I can wear whatever I want and I spend large portions of my day reading Jezebel. Is this what real adults do?

And every once in a while, I will be walking down the street and think, “Oh my god, I live in Prague. Since when? And how? Are you sure I’m not just visiting here?” But I’ve actually made a life. I get up in the morning, I make breakfast, I go to work. I’m in a book club and I go to yoga classes. I have friends here–actual friends, not just semi-awkward acquaintances. And I still don’t know how any of it happened.

And while I may like my life here, having moved a few inches out of my not-liking-Prague phase (though perhaps not at full-blown adulation yet), I miss being in school. I look forward to my book club every two weeks just so that I can go and argue with people about agency and symbolism. I have seriously considered suggesting that we CIMG0669include supplementary theory articles with the books, but I’m certain that I would be overruled. I don’t know if I’m ready not to be a student.

The real world is a strange place where you have to work very hard to make friends, to be social, even just to keep yourself busy. I still don’t know how I feel about that. I think that graduating, leaving all of my friends, and moving to another country all in one fell swoop was a big, not entirely thought-out move on my part, even if it’s one I’m glad I made. I’ve always done that, though. Sure, I can go to Ecuador without a guidebook when I’m sixteen. I can travel around Thailand by myself. I might as well go to Egypt if I’m already in Europe. For all of my impulsive decisions (mostly involving going to other countries), I haven’t made one yet that I really regret.

I have no idea where I’m going with this at all, except that I still think that a conversation I had with Ali a really long time ago holds: you know you’re a grown-up when you stop using the word “grown-up.” I’m pretty sure.

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