Tuesday, June 16, 2009

On growing older when you've technically be prematurely old for a while

I recently had to sign up as cosigner for my little brother's apartment lease. For those out of the loop, my kid brother started college last year. My parents' had such crap credit that I ended up cosigning those loans as well. So besides my own student loans those are other things on my plate. Not that I'm annoyed by this, I'm glad my brother's going to school period. It's just weird how I've always been this sort of surrogate parent not just for my brother but for myself with a lot of things you'd expect the adult in your life to do.

Most people sort of have a moment where they're all "OMG. I'm paying for my own crap! I'm an adult" kind of moment, but the older I get the more I realize a lot of this "I'm a big kid now" crap is a little too familiar. Let's just say life is a little skewed when you're a 10 year old worried about not having enough money to make rent, let alone aware of such things as rent needing to be paid. Don't get me wrong. It's not like we were ever poor poor, we got by. Nonetheless I blame a lot of my weird hangups about and obsession with amassing money on that.

Writing your own parents' notes to your teacher is kind of embarrassing and pretty annoying. That one month I had to pay my own middle school tuition kind of sucked.

Anyhow, having to fax in that cosigner application this weekend was just another reminder how this shit got old a long time ago. I had no cake, but how about this for a birthday wish: For once, I'd like to totally just let everything go and have someone with their shit together enough that I feel like they can take care of me. Like for once be able to feel like I can gamble and fuck up and I'm not the one taking care of being patient of other people around me. I don't know, I always feel like I'm the one who has to like keep it together and listen to other people's problems, be their shoulder to cry on, put up with their tantrums and issues. Just once, like, I don't know, be allowed to have a little meltdown or something. And not worry about someone else's baggage and have them be like, "It's cool, daddy-o." Or a big one. A full on freak out. Whatever. Breathing into paper bags can be involved if need be. I'm not picky.


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