My Room

Yesterday I was telling my Mama’s counselor friend about my generation. We’re pretty weird it seems:
1. We have commitment issues. Few of us married young, and few are married even now.

2. Most of us went to school, but few have professional jobs.

3. Many are idealistic–choosing poverty over working for “the man.” Quiet a few serve in organizations like the Peace Corps. or AmeriCorps.

4. Many live with their parents.

That’s me. Last night was the first night I told someone about my generation and it actually applied to me as well! Ugh. Normally I can inform my audience with an air of superiority.

No more… because today I set up my room at my Mama’s house. I put my bed together. I washed my duvet. I even hung my framed photos on the wall–that’s something I didn’t do at my last two apartments. I picked the biggest room at Mama’s house–the only room that was without a bed. That allows me for a lot of closet space too. It’s sad when you have your choice because you’re the only one of six kids living at home.

So, here I am: 27 years old, jobless, and living at my parent’s house. I guess now is a good time to remember what Mamaw used to say: someone somewhere is always worse off then you are.

Time to buck up, Jania… Counting of blessings starts now!

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