As a child I remember the simple pleasures of Saturday mornings, the excitement of birthdays, the familiar comforts of family on holidays, the thrill of my first love, and the stresses of getting my homework done on time. In highschool friends were all around, you called them on the phone or spent the night and talked for hours on end about your parents- who you thought were totally un-cool and you friends thought they ruled, about your lame teacher, about the boy you were crushing on, or the popular girl you who you envied but never would admit to.
I grew up with an unfounded belief that family holidays were a given -that every New Years, Memorial Day,4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas would be spent at my grandparent's home with my aunts, uncles, and cousins; that Saturday mornings were the Myday- sleeping in until 1o or 11, eating CoaCoa Krispies until I was sick, and terrorizing the neighborhood with my friends; that my birthday was actually important which made me important.
As I have aged all of twenty-seven years, I have become aware that Saturday's are just another work day (for me), my birthdays will come and go unnoticed, the comfort of family holidays only exist with my ex-husband's family, no other relationship feels the same as that first one when you were a carefree teenager, and I still have the stresses of turning my homework in on time.
I have become a disillusioned adult...
