I wonder when I started not being a child. I know I grew up somehow, or sometime, but I don’t know how or when. I guess it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that I did. All that matters is what I am now. None of those little details matter.
Right? I guess so.
But sometimes I wish I could go back to that time when I was a child, before I grew up and became “an adult,â€? with bills to pay and a job to go to and kids to feed. And a husband to take care of. Man, those were the days, huh? Or I guess they were, anyway. I really can’t remember all that well. But I do know that I definitely never had to kiss anybody’s ass in those days. I mean, I guess I don’t have to now, but… Well, yea. I sort of do. Because otherwise, I’d be out of a job.
You know, it’s kind of funny how life ends up. I never thought I’d be in a place like this. That is something I remember about my childhood. I was always an idealist.