Growing Up & Getting On

You know there's a point in your life were you really have to admit defeat.
I admit it.
Defeated.

Defeat 1:
Being consistent has never been my forte therefore consistently blogging is something that will probably never happen.
Truth be told I spend most of my day writing so that by the time I get to my allocated 'blog-writing-time' I'm pretty much all written out.

Sadly admitting this little defeat may be one of the most grown-up things I've done in the last few days. Let's all observe a moment of silence for the awkwardness of this statement, seeing as how I totes just got engaged. Which bt-dubs high five me and fiancé! I heart this man, I would attempt to describe him but words fail me. All I will say though is that he makes my heart smile.

Defeat 2:
The second stage of admitting defeat is acknowledging my next and rather huge short coming. Growing up is hard when you still live at home. A little thing made that much worst if you're a single. What's that you ask? Well you're certainly not one.
A single aka 'the only child' offers you an individual who is pretty much a mixed bag of nuts. Note whilst personal experience is predominant in my research of this topic, I have many close friends who are also singles, we've apparently lived the same lives minus god hair- she has it, not me.

Finding myself at age 26 living at home and having developed a fairly decent relationship with the parental units, life isn't all that bad.
Till it happens. Correction of words, statements or even behaviors.
And here it is the purpose of this post. Where do you draw the line? At which point does one shift from the role of child to the role of adult?
Is it our life phase that determines how we will be treated or is it merely a case of parents will always be parents?

Gaining a significant other isn't the answer nor is a conversation discussing roles and their alterations- let be known regardless of how evolved your units may be, this course of action should be approached with caution as it almost always ends in disaster.

Finally the point which I'm seeming to side with (probably cos I'm a pansy who hates confrontation which odd given how confrontational and blunt I can be) is maybe its all in my head. It's an only child fall back answer. We have no siblings to bounce shit off and eventually decide its us that's cray cray and everyone else is perfectly sane.

This internal Hamlet like drama combined with a now unhealthy love for a certain unmentionable planned event leads me to believe I may just need a break. Back to writing fiction I think.

Whatever the case it seems that it's an issue for me and if I'm feeling it I doubt I'm alone. I mean I may be hip and cool and with it but lesbihonest an original thought is hard to come by, especially at 12:20am.

Signing off...word...yo...holla!