today, at the academic library where i work, yet another student mistook me for a student. "no, i'm a librarian." wow. like, did you go to college for that? they didn't really say it, but they were shocked i wasn't in school. this guy i met last week at a pub said when i spoke of my love of cooking and my small kitchen, "i'm not even too sure what i have in there. a plate, a spoon, pots and pans. most of it is my roommates. i barely cook." ah, the life of a takeaway manhattanite. he was only 23, so he can't be to blame. but today as i was seeking the best-looking organic produce, compiling ingredients to make yet another soup (i'm seriously obsessed with soups lately! i love them, and they're perfect for wintertime), i realized, i'm a grown-up. i have my own apartment, my own kitchen, my own bills, and i am an independent woman.
it scared me.
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