Aaron Riveroll | Photographer

As I walked up to my apartment door tonight, I remember what it felt like two years ago when I opened up the door for the first time. There was a sense of uncertainty. All the “what-ifs” of being out on my own and in the real world. Would I be able to pay all my bills? Would mom and dad be able to bail me out if I was in a jam? Would my roommates annoy me? Will this ever feel like home? I walked through the door tonight and it did indeed feel like home. Two years is a long time to get used to stuff.

When I went to college, I lived with my grandparents. It took me a while to feel comfortable, even though it was a house I grew up in. But for some reason, I didn’t want to call it home…But ever since then, the home that I thought was home wasn’t really my home. Now, it doesn’t even really exist anymore, which is a sad thing. But we grow up and move on. When I first moved into my apartment with my two best friends, it felt like it was gonna take some getting used to. I remember the first night was the worst. It always is, isn’t it? But these days, when I’m tired, I look forward to coming home and sleeping in my bed. It’s funny how you get used to things.

I’m excited for the move. I’ll be moving in three days to another strange place…another stop along the way. And although it’s exciting, it’s another unknown. A whole new chapter of things. A change. And if you know me, I don’t take to change very well. I think it will be good, but sometimes it’s hard for me to leave things behind because along the way I learn to hold on to them too tightly…and when the time comes to let go, I have trouble loosening my grip. Hopefully it will be easier this time. :)

With growing up and change comes some good things. I’m going to be 26 in less than 24 hours. That’s a scary thing. I mean, I’m nowhere close to having a girlfriend. I’m nowhere near working in a job I see myself ten years from now. You would think I would be on the road to marriage, one step closer to having my house with my dog, Fluffy the wonderdog (if you have anRHS ’97 yearbook, you’ll know what I mean). But alas, this is not the case. But I did buy a big TV today. That should more than make up for my inadequacies, right? At least you can come over and watch the Super Bowl at my house.

I realized why people with lots of money buy stuff. Because they have money. Duh. Some (not all, but some) people with lots of money work hard for their money. They work insane, long hours…and it’s enough to drive someone crazy. But I learned that the saying is true…money can’t buy happiness. But it can buy lots and lots of stuff, which in theory, could take your mind off how pathetic your life is. Whilst you are playing with your toys, you can forget about the worries and stress and stupid little things that work tends to bring. I mean, you could just work hard and let the money sit there…but seriously, what fun is that? I can honestly say that I work hard. I work hard at a job that really isn’t that exciting. It isn’t that interesting. I enjoy what I do, but that’s only because I can find the fun in almost any type of job. I’m good at that. But my job is just that…a job. In the words of my sister (and Jack Arnold from the TV show The Wonder Years), “Work’s work.” And that about sums it up. It gives me money. Money to play and buy toys with. Someday it will give me money to support my family. But for now, it’s fun to play and forget about the stupid things at work.

So I’m just gonna play. Like the big 26-year old kid that I am.