Age ain’t nothing but a number

Yesterday I had pretty firmly decided to stay in California and make things work here. All day I kind of sat on it and thought about it, and it just wasn’t settling for me. I don’t know why I am so caught up on how old I am. I’m 23, is that truly that old? I do have a few friends who have graduated and are actually grown ups now doing grown up jobs, but I have so many who haven’t done anything. They haven’t even gone to college and don’t know what they want to do with their lives. I finally know what I want to do and how I want to do it but I’m 23…about 5 years too late be just starting, right? I mean the way I look at it is, I have 3 to 6 months before I can afford to move and another, once I’ve moved, before I can start school because of residency. That puts me at 25 starting school again. I want to do that internship in DisneyWorld I’m thinking I have about 3 years of school left, so I’ll be 28-29 when I graduate. It’s an awful lot but I can’t help but think it’s worth it. As much as I would like to have graduated already, I know I would be an accountant or a pharmacist if I had and I just can’t imagine living a happy life with that as my career. It’s a really complicated emotion I’m feeling about this whole situation. Maybe I’m just using my age as an excuse like I’ve been using so many other things before. This is part of that whole being brave thing I’m trying to work on.