Finally I've Grown Up

It's taken me 18 years, but something crazy happened today. . . Wait for it. . .  I grew up.
Yep, it's official, I, Morgan am a grown-up.  Okay, not quite "grown-up" status, that's for old people.  I guess I realized how much I have changed. I went from awkward boy-loving freshman to someone I really like being.  I've matured (thank goodness).  And, of course, I have to have examples from my day!

A) I looked at a car.  By myself.  How crazy is that?  Granted, when I pulled up and saw a creepy guy smokin his Marbalos I just about put The Beast in reversed and went home to my cozy, safe bed.  But I didn't.  I even used technical terms such as "clutch" and. . . That's the only technical term I used. Still, It was grown up.

B) I enjoyed hanging out with my brother.  When I was little I hated that kid.  Hated.  He use to beat me up. . . and rip my hair out. . . and break my jewelry (which he still isn't forgiven for). The crazy kid broke his collar bone at football and so he got out of going to a family reunion with the rest of the fam. (I worked.)  I sat in my room today and freaked out a little.  I'm going to miss this kid.  A lot.  And he's going to go crazy without me.  (Yes, he's way taller than I am. . . The doctor says he'll probably be around 6'3".  I got jipped in the gene pool)

C) I worked for 8.5 hours at a single job.  That's a very, very long time.  And that's only about 60 bucks.  My grown-up self has figured out going to college is a very good idea.  You can't live off of making delectable frozen treats.

Even though I did all these cool things all by myself that didn't make me realize I was grown up.

D) I had a parking lot chat with a friend.  (Only the best people sit in parking lots, in 95 degree heat, in a car, just to talk.)   We talked about things that didn't really surprise me, but surprisingly didn't bother me.  A year ago, maybe even six months ago, I would have reacted a lot differently.  But, the grown-up me feels extremely secure with what was discussed.  I don't know how to quite explain the feeling.  It's like wearing your favorite slouchy shirt and stretchy jeans.  You just feel comfortable, safe, and happy.  You're ready to take on the world and nothing can go wrong.  No other outfit makes you feel that way.  (That may be the worst description ever written.  It must be the fact it's 1:26am right now.  Give me a break.)
If you, my wonderful little blog, were my journal i'd write something like:

Mer-Mer, I really like this.
Love, Mo

So, Flipping Pages,
I really like this.
Love, Mo