August Panic

Yesterday, in my hurry to detail the excitement of working in a smoke shop, I neglected to mention what is actually frightening about this week:

August.

August itself might not seem so frightening, but the limits of the human lifespan are. Let me rephrase:

By the end of August, I will be:
- Nineteen
- Finished with Invasion (the play I'm working on at the moment), and
- In New York

Two of my oldest friends are leaving for college this fall, and it is all too easy to remember the terror of the final summer at home. Or, it is all too easy not to remember, as the only things I can remember about that summer were getting my wisdom teeth removed and working ten hours a week at a bakery. Apart from that, I think I spent the whole summer panicking about leaving home (and reading depressing books. I asked my sister what she remembers of that summer, and she said, "You read books about Poland." Ah yes, Poland. Panic.) But that doesn't change the fact that it was two years ago that I first left home, two years ago that I started college, two years ago that I supposedly became an adult.

And, if I start to think of things this way, I inevitably start to panic.

I was sixteen when I graduated from high school, and I will be twenty when I graduate from college. What this means is, all of my college friends are at least a year older than me, while most of my home friends are significantly younger. So, while I rejoice at seeing my friends get ready for college, I start to feel very old myself. Meanwhile, I have to ever-remind myself that many of these puzzles have no clear answer - how can I help my friends overcome their anxiety? How can I make the most of every moment of my life? How can I stop the time from going so fast?

The answer, of course: I can't.

On that cheery note, I leave you. It is 11:59, and I swore I would Blog Every Day in August, so darn it, I will!

Listening to: The Suburbs - Arcade Fire
Plans for Tomorrow: Coffee and Fanfiction in Barnes and Noble.