Today, I am 21 years old. My birthday was yesterday at 11:59pm. Alex bought me the most gorgeous stand-up easel I have ever seen and just looking at it makes me want to paint. I feel like a real life artist when I paint, now. Not just a dabbler. I have sold a piece after all.
Since it was my birthday and I didn’t want to stay the same way forever, I felt like it was my job to change. So.. I did, I guess.
My legs moved on their own today in the direction of my boss and my head was screaming “NO NO NO” and the words “I’m not coming back after Christmas, consider this my notice” tumbled out of my mouth onto the floor and for a moment there I thought they were actually visible and brain vomit, there, on his shoes. I promptly turned around and walked back to my bench. I wouldn’t say I mustered up courage so much as I knew it had to be done, especially because of a certain person’s outburst in my presence today merely moments before.
I feel optimistic. I feel like I can do almost anything right now. Like for some reason, before I had rules for myself like.. don’t try to paint that, it’ll take too long and look stupid when you’re done or you can’t be serious, really? and I just keep getting beaten down by this censoring head-voice and I can’t quite get beyond it. I could today. I felt better for it.
This is me, 21 years old. I’m feeling good about this.