I am officially an adult now, living on my own. Assuming it would be like every birthday since age twelve, the instant significance of the moment struck me acutely when I watched my parents walk through the automatic glass doors of the airport terminal: I am alone. I am free. I am responsible for so much. I am independent. I am unsure what comes next. I am unattached. I am unprepared. I am excited. I am going to get a ticket if I don't pull out from in front of the doors soon. All these I am's at once, but the most surprising: I am okay.
Okay because, as was the answer (marked correct and given credit about 80% of the time) to all the high school religion course exam questions that escaped my mind: Jesus loves me. He must, because my new life has some pretty cool shit in it, to put it bluntly. Because I have yet to start aching for my (old? former? no longer? still?) home, the wise thing to do is to list why my new home and life is cooler than a Minnesota February. When the homesickness hits (and it will, like a giant cartoon anvil falling from the sky on Wile Coyote's unsuspecting head), I will remind myself of everything that makes me want to be here and nowhere else.
My gas stove - one of my criteria when I chose my housing (priorities, right?)
My own bathroom - the shower stall may be smaller than the cardboard moving cave I had in my car, but it's mine
My (roommate's) dog, Rory - who doesn't love a big mushy Rottweiler sweetiepants? Especially when you're a twenty-something single woman living in a big city
My new mattress - I may not get to spend as many hours in it as I would like in the coming months, but it's still awesome
My roommate - she loves Brussels sprouts. Enough said.
My job - I have one, which is more than a lot of people can say
My future - I'm going to be a doctor. For real.