I’m 22 years old



Can you believe it? I’m twenty-two years old. I can. Since childhood I’ve always wanted to be older, I mean what kid doesn’t? Being older meant having more respect. No one could tell you what to do, when to go to bed, when to clean your room, or what to do in general. Little did I know being older is almost the exact same as being a kid.

I am twenty-two and I still am told what to eat, when to go to bed, and what to do. Instead of my parents telling me it’s my doctor, my girlfriend and my bosses. I guess that’s the beauty of growing up, you’re tricked in to it. But, hey that’s ok because at least I’m starting look more adult-ish.

For the longest time I felt I looked like I did at 16, but low and behold 6 years later I’m starting to look like a real adult. I think it’s because in the past year I have done a lot of growing up and evolving. My entire twenty second year of life has been a whirl wind up maturing. I bought a car, graduated college, got a full time job, moved back home for a few months, bought a house. Moved into said house with my girlfriend of almost eight years and here we are today. Valentine’s Day 2011 nearing the end of my twenty second year of life.  Now all I needed is a grown-up job career, get hitched, get knocked up and I’m all set. I will be a full blown 9-5, 24-7 adult. I have two more weeks until my 23rd birthday and I must say, like every other birthday, I am super excited to turn another year older.

I am positive this will be my best year yet.




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