Playing Dress Up

Last week I turned 25. 

A quarter of a century. 

Hittin' my stride in my mid-twenties. 

Getting closer to thirty every day.

I came away from my birthday with a fully stocked wine rack and realized that I have officially moved on from polly pockets and stuffed animals to being a conesuier of fine wine. Or at least pretending to be.

A pretend Sommelier is better than no Sommelier at all, right?

The ever present birthday question is "Feel older yet?"

Sure I can rent a car now without the extra "I'm under 25 so I am more likely to text and drive and crash" fee, but I still feel young. So incredibly young and not ready for the stages of life that I am expected to be in. I feel like a child playing dress up.

Not only do I feel young in my present state but also at the idea of growing up. Let me just say, Peter Pan was on to something...

Lately there is much talk of the future.

Future financial plans. Future career plans. Future travel plans. Future relationship plans.

Someone gave me a CD a couple weeks ago called Futures. I'm still waiting to listen to it. Waiting for the right time. Waiting for enough space to hear it in it's entirety. And there is something symbolic about waiting to listen to Futures.

Waiting for a future that is not yet mine to be in. Waiting for a future that should be planned for in the present. Waiting for a future that is obviously unknown. Waiting for a future that is confident.

Waiting.

That's a theme.

The future can't come soon enough and yet I would not be opposed to it moving like molasses in January...

Let's compromise with something in between Speedy Gonzales and a turtle with a broken leg.

Let's not rush the future. But let's dream about the future.

***

On the topic of playing dress up - you know what they say, dress for the job you want. 

I see two options: