Morning Amnesia

So, yesterday, I was on the schedule to come into work today at 3PM. As such, I planned my sleep schedule to account for this. Last night, however, I got a call from work asking me to come in at 7 AM instead. Helpful guy that I am, I agreed. So this morning, when my alarm woke me at 6 in the morning, I was tired. So tired, in fact, that I had morning amnesia. Contrary to this comic observation, however, I actually was incredibly disturbed by the experience. I knew exactly two things: "I am awake" and "I should not be awake." Most noticeably, as I recall the experience, I did not know why I was awake. Not "why am I getting up so early" or "is this really worth it," but honestly, I didn't even understand that my alarm had woken me. It sucked. It sucked a lot.

Work itself, on the other hand, was unremarkable, and fairly lackluster. Apart from getting off after only 7 hours (which I will make up later in the week), it was pretty joyless. This is a shame, because I had had a string of several really great shifts at work. Oh well. You can't win them all.

Adulthood

So... I'm now one week into employment. I have halfway completed my orientation class, and then I'm an actual employee. The word "professional" is in my title (a possible subject for a future blog post). Add this to the fact that I'm moved out of my parents house, and have a girlfriend with kids (which apparently makes me an authority figure), and I'm pretty much a grown-up. It's a rather bizarre feeling.

Now, there are a lot of ways one could respond to my new grown-up status. Some would say I'm not, either because I still love videogames, or waste hours online, or because I use the word "grown-up" instead of "adult." These are legitimate points. Others would say I've been a grown-up for a while, as I am 23 (24 in two weeks), have graduated both highschool and college, and have determined the course of my own life for some time now. These points are also legitimate. They are also wrong.

Do you want to know why I'm really a grown-up now? Because I finally gave in. I've spent the past several years resisting it. I tried to get a job, sure. I furthered my education, tried to do "the responsible thing," but I was never a grown-up, because I really didn't want to be. I was still a kid. I wanted money for fun (and to pay back student loans, I guess). I moved several states from home, but that was to be with friends (as well as the lovely young lady to whom I am now attached romantically). I fought being an actual grown-up for as long as I possibly could. Now, though, I am. I don't always like it. I hate that the form I should have mailed in weeks ago and only sent out now (meaning it won't hit the mail until tomorrow morning) is entirely my responsibility, and if there are negative consequences they will land squarely on my head. But they will. And I will deal with it.

To be honest, I didn't intend for this post to take a turn this way. I planned for a simple, biographical look at the past week. I would talk about how it feels like a college class (communications, to be specific). I would describe, in detail, the mixture of elation and dread I felt every day this week, as I learned more about my job and responsibilities. I would go on and on about how I've woken up before my alarm clock the past 4 days, and only this morning managed to sleep until it went off. Sure, I just mentioned these, but they aren't the focus of my post.

I'm an adult. I've lost the fight. There's no going back.

All there is now is the rest of my life.

Nightmares

I have a semi-recurring nightmare.

In it, I have finished college (or, when it started, I was in college), but my highschool has contacted me, saying that my diploma is invalid because of some irregularity or other. Sometimes I had forgotten to take a required class, and they just now noticed. Other times, some teacher or another had faked their degree or missed something that would have made the class count. At least once, I remembered having agreed to putting off this one requirement until such a time as I was free. The bottom line is, I need to go back to highschool for a semester and get this taken care of.

This is not a terribly disturbing nightmare. Perhaps it is only an unpleasant dream. I just know that I always have this panic of going back.

It doesn't help that after graduating, I've been living at home and still cannot find a job.