The whole idea of it makes me
feel like I’m coming down with
something, something worse than any
headache or the stomach aches I get
from thinking about eating Taco Bell –
a kind of anxious turn in my stomach,
so twisted that medicine couldn’t
Help. You tell me to enjoy my young
years in one ear, but in the other you
shove down ideas of working
at the pool. But I can lie on my bedroom
floor and remember every digit.

At five I was a vet for my stuffed
animals. I was being paged all
over the “hospital” to help Darla
Dog and Jenny Giraffe.

At eight I was a princess with
a pink tiara, at ten a
teacher. But now I’m mostly flipping
through college brochures.
Back then it felt like I’d be young forever,
having responsibilities like working,
and paying for everything on my own
seemed unrealistic at this age.

“This is the beginning of adulthood”,
I say to myself as I ride my bike to my first
day of work. Its time to say goodbye to all these
pretend occupations and start
thinking of a teaching career. One that
would carry me through my twenties
and beyond.

It seems like only yesterday I could be
every thing at once.

If you asked me what I wanted to be when I
was younger I’d start ranting off multiple jobs,
a teacher, a vet, a princess.
But if you asked me now I’d give you a blank stare
And get a sick feeling in my stomach.
“I want to be a 5 year old vet again”,
I’d say staring at my discolored,
torn up Jenny the Giraffe