There has been yard work. Installing a sprinkler system (hello, adulthood). And egg salad panini sandwiches with bread and butter pickles, crunchy lettuce, sun chips and sunflower seeds.
I've decided I put so much effort into avoiding anything that might seem pretentious that I end up cancelling out any sincerity I may have had in the first place.
Also, I like getting older. Not that 23 is "old" in really any way. It's just, the older you get, the more familiar with yourself you are. You know what's worth it to you and what isn't. You're more of a....person. You don't get all of those looks of pity from adults anymore. There may be a day where I don't like this quite as much, but all I know right now is that the older I get, the more okay with it, all of it, I am.
I'm trying to teach myself this difficult lesson that feelings are not facts.
I sometimes go through these phases, where I don't have a lot to say or share. I used to worry, I'd wonder if I had lost it. If I would go the rest of my life without ever writing or creating again.
But it always comes back.