Life in the Twenties

My name is Kendra, I'm a second grade teacher in Lawrence, MA.  I live in Boston, MA.  I'm 24 years old and going through ish.  Aren't we all?!  From criticisms about my career choice--what a waste of talent, being a teacher!--to living in limbo--single friends, married friends, oh my!--all while trying to enjoy yourself.

Well, I'm young, I'm old, I'm all ages at once.  A celebrity to my students, an equal to my peers, a newbie to my colleagues.  Juggling balls, juggling hats, juggling shots. I kid, I kid!  It is hard though to be in so many stages of life all at once.  On visits home, I'm my mother's daughter, barely feeling old enough to drive and yet realizing that I am almost old enough to have my own family.  At school, I am trying to come into my own as a teacher, surrounded by mostly older people (late twenties, but still...).  My colleagues are further in their lives, for the most part, which makes me feel older than I am.  With my friends, I am supposed to be college-party-crazy, but can't be, don't want to be, and we constantly talk about our futures.  Natural, I suppose, but stressful because we're not yet there and want to "live in the moment" as well.

What else makes me feel older than my young years?  Those kids.  Those Lawrence kids.  Young and old at once, I suppose.  Some days I am fun, hip Ms. Lueken.  Other days, I am passed out on the couch on a Friday night, relishing in the fact that I can catch up on my shows (thank you DVR) and next thing I know...lights out.  And it's 8:30 PM, maybe 9:00, if I'm feeling crazy.  Any teacher worth her salt knows, Friday is a no-go for fun, call me on Saturday and I may feel up to it.

Which leads me to my friends.  Making me feel old in comparison to their exuberant selves.  Going out is a process, I must RALLY god damnit, and perform.  Once I'm out, it's fun, but it takes a toll on me.  When that Sunday rolls around and I find myself making lessons and catching up on chores I absolutely could not, would not do on Saturday.  I punch myself in the ass and wonder why on earth I felt the need to have all those vodka tonics?  Why on earth was it necessary to dance my face off?!  I rub my eyes and think, I'm too old for this!  I have 25 little niños looking up to me, ready for me to knock their socks off on Monday.  But then the devil on my shoulder knocks me upside the head and shouts, "You're only young once!  Are you flipping kidding me?!"

And who's to say which side is right?  I guess this is growing up.