Like a Child

I can imagine that I must be exhausting to you. Like a child sometimes. I get crumbs everywhere, and I don't even realize they're on me. I surround myself with pets that I often don't have time to take care of myself. I cry for no good reason. I'm still in school – at my age, I'm still in school! I may own my house, but I have a hard time taking care of it. I don't even drive a decent car, for God's sake! How annoying that must be! It's no wonder you sometimes think I should be with someone younger. I probably wear you out just being me. Sometimes I don't know how I put up with myself.

It's too bad you didn't know me before. Back when I was more responsible. When I put in my forty hours a week at a job that I didn't like, but at least I was paying the bills. I wasn't chasing some silly dream. I wasn't this mid-life child – some grotesque Baby Huey in the classroom, someone that the kids would whisper about: "What's she doing here? She's as old as my mother!" Someone who was probably a lot easier to understand.

It's too bad you didn't know me when I was hyper-responsible. When I took care of everything. When I was the Wendy to the clan of Peter Pans.

Someday I'll grow up. I'll be responsible. Maybe I won't hate my job as much. I hope I don't, but I don't know. I just know I won't be where I am now. Stuck out here – in limbo.