When I started this blog, I thought it was going to be about the process of becoming an adult — you know, figuring out what I want to do with my life, changing the world, singing “What Do You Do With a B.A. in English?” every day, stuff like that. Because, you know, I’m in my twenties, and it is therefore not unreasonable to assume that I’m, you know, an adult. Hell, 150 years ago, I would be married and having children; 700 years ago I would probably be on my third kid and running a household of one size or another. If I were a guy (or a particularly enterprising cross-dresser) I’d already have learned a trade and be working at it.
Instead . . . Well. Here’s what an adult apparently does with her morning on the first day of February in 2013.
1. Wake up.
2. Fall out of bed.
Drag a comb across my head Make coffee.
5. Watch an episode of Revolutionary Girl Utena because I promised some people I would.
6. Feel like that was a productive use of the morning.
7. Realize that wasn’t really a productive use of the morning.
8. Start to look up freelance writing jobs and bemoan the fact that I don’t want to go to the effort of applying for even the ones that look semi-interesting.
9. Email my temp agency to ask about assignments.
10. Remind self that it’s absolutely okay to say no to a job that sounds like it would be a bad fit.
11. Indulge myself in my daily internal wailing over taxes.
12. Notice that the library I’m sitting in has, like, every Redwall book ever, as well as Madeleine L’Engle’s Time Quartet. When was the last time I read Brian Jacques? When was the last time I reread A Swiftly Tilting Planet? Hang on, are those Gail Carson Levine books I haven’t read?
13. Wonder whether my novel is a YA fantasy book or light-weight adult fantasy, and whether there’s actually much difference, since heaven knows The Hunger Games is adult SF if I’ve ever read any.
14. Wonder what the deal is with the first-person present-tense narrative trend in YA books lately.
15. Wonder what might happen if I wrote a few chapters of my novel in first-person present-tense. Or maybe a companion piece. Man, I can write fanfiction about my own work! And it counts as part of the work! How cool is that?
16. Notice that the sun has come out and is making a rather lovely tableau out of my hands on the keyboard, my thermos of coffee, my scarf and my phone, and remind myself that as confusing and worrisome as adulthood may be, it brings with it some perks.