This is the prime of my life, or so I'm told. Enjoy it while you can, they say...you'll miss these days once you're married and have kids... And I smile and nod and agree, but I wonder if anyone really remembers what it's like to be young and fabulous. I work at least 40 hours a week, and then I have two courses at Utah Valley State College that occupy a good portion of my time. So here I am. It's Friday night. The night of nights. The night which belongs to the young and fabulous. Yet, strangely, I am at my apartment doing homework that must be done before midnight. I'm not doing the homework tonight purely due to procrastination--I've been busy--but now the deadline looms before me like the sunset which took place hours ago, while I was still doing homework. Pumpkin-inevitability aside, I would probably still be at home. Why? Because being young and fabulous is exhausting. By the end of the week, I am too tired for much beyond sleeping. In fact, I probably go to bed earlier on Friday nights than on any other night. Why is that? Here, in the "prime of my life," I am completely worn out. Could it be that being young and fabulous is much less glamorous than it sounds? Or have I not yet achieved an appropriate level of "fabulosity?" Am I missing something? What is it about being young and fabulous that is so fabulous? Or is it just me? I suppose it's irrelevant. My Macroeconomics homework is beckoning. I must now evaluate which products the countries of Tunata and Canswicki should produce--baby formula or cans of tuna? Glamorous, isn't it? And very educational.
That's all the bacon for now.
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