There’s Something About Midnight Flights.
It is 1:17 AM and you are at the gate and the airport is a different country at this hour. The coffee shops are half-lit. The passage of the bookstore seems more comforting- maybe because of
notes from adulting
The Town I Grew Up In Doesn’t Exist Anymore.
I went back last year. The lane looks the same. The town now has a new coat of gray instead of the greens - a colour I would not have chosen, but I guess capitalism forced it.
I Became a Morning Person and Lost a Part of My Personality.
I wake up at 5:45 or 6am now. I have a routine. A walk, sometimes. A journal I write three pages in before my brain has fully decided to participate.
Adulthood Smells Like a Floor Cleaner.
Somewhere between being sixteen and now, someone forgot to mention that most of the adulthood would be administrative.
Nobody said: you will spend a Thursday afternoon calculating