It wasn’t until I was around 17 that I got my own
room at my Rent’s house. By that time I was ready to move out. See my big
sister had a baby and for some reason, my niece, was always staying with my
parents (after my sister moved out). I thought rather than waking up on my
Saturday mornings to a screaming 5-year old I’d just move out and get a job.
Yeah being up at 7am to be at my job and paying actual grown up bills instead
of waking up to a screaming 5 year old…makes since right?
Could I have gone to college, probably. Could I
have stayed and mooched off my parents for a little longer, yes. Do I regret
this, sometimes, but I grew up and can’t regret things I chose in the
past. I wouldn’t give up those times in
my apartment and our first house for the world. We had a lot of fun.
Still though, I hate going out on dates and hearing those questions, “what was your major in college” or “did you go to UGA”…How bout NO! I graduated from high school, moved out, said I’d always go back but I got a job and decided I was good where I was. In a perfect world I would have gone to college and studied photography or something I’m actually passionate about, but it is what it is.
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