forever young

So, I'm moving to New York in one month. To be more specific, Long Island.

I really can't think about how much my life is about to change. That is a thought much too abstract and scary and exciting for me right now. Instead, I'm stuck in the monotony of looking at apartments on Craigslist. Even though I've already Twittered this, I swear to God - if I see another 220 sq. foot apartment with wood paneling, I will die.

I'm constantly surprised at how willing I am to give up on my dreams for comfort. Specifically, the comfort of not living in a closet of wood paneling. It's a constant struggle. What kind of excuses can I make for not taking my dream job in order to stay living this life of dicking-around? I've got plenty. And I don't know why. Well, I do know why. Fear. Fear of following my wildest dreams. I saw Up. It made me cry. It touched me so deep to think about going after what you desire - and sharing it with people you love. It made me want that GaGa/Madonna ambition to just go for it. But then, in tiny moments, I get scared.

And the Daily Show isn't helping.

I know I'm going to do this. I have to. I just don't want to grow up yet. All this annual budget bullshit, and figuring out how much I pay a year for my cell phone, for my car insurance, for rent, for utilities, for responsibilities that I never wanted in the first place but was kindly given because I'm a willing sheep in this herd called the system. Baaa. Ram. You. Whenever I hear the word "bill," I think "Get me a swingset." Whenever I hear the word "payment," I think "Where's my bubba?" Whenever I get called "sir," I want to just be called "Buck-tooth-beaver" again. I just want to run a million miles backward to the time when I was young. I think about playing in the neighborhood at dusk on a summer night, coming in before dark, gulping down Kool-Aid, having my mom make me ice cream with chocolate syrup, taking a bath and then having her comb the shit out of my hair to make me look like a mini-Donald Trump. I think back to that time often, these days. Where I was taken care of, not taking care of.

Which may be why I took a job working with kids. Keep me young, guys. Please. Keep me young.