Ribbit Privet Private Shmivate Privy Shmivy

I've downed on Community Service day my whole life.  When I was a baby, I would make thumbs-down signs in my baby food and then mumble something which sounds like "Cuh-woo-knitty Sew-viss"on the old family videos.  I can't even remember if I've ever participated before this year, although I feel like there may have been that one time.  But today was fun.  I pulled a lot of privet.  And I will probably keep downing on Community Service day.

But today was also a small example to myself of how I actually have been growing the past few years since high school, for example.  I said OK to going on a not-as-cool-as-the-project-that-200-students-are-doing project with several people that I don't know.  I sat in a car with them all the way there, even saying a few words.  And then, when we got there, I even got to know them a little better, laughing with them and making the most of our privet-filled lives.  We worked hard and enjoyed it, following it all up with eating together outside of Hulsey.  Shoooot, that's improvement for me.

Sometimes, for me, when I look hard enough I see small things that remind me that I am actually, one of these days, sometime in the future, not too afar off, eventually, coming soon to a Christoffer near you, going to be a more-or-less what they sometimes call "grown up."  It's true, the first graders at Spalding sometimes think I'm a grown up.  And maybe my future cat will think so, too.  But there is still too much comparing going on in my own head for me to consider myself one of those "adults."  When that stops, and I'm OK with being less adept at sociability (et cetera) than other "people," then I'll be "happy" with the "way" I "am."  Quote unquote.  In other words, in seven minutes and forty seconds it will be Tuesday morning.  Tuesday will be a busy day.  I'm scared to do the interview necessary to write the profile necessary to turn one in on Thursday necessary to please the teacher's syllabus standards necessary to receive a grade necessary for passing the class necessary for my overall satisfaction.  I'm worried that I won't even get the interview DONE.  Oh my lands.

I'm not even close to being a "grown up."  Start reading this over again, and then don't read it at all.  This was for me.