I have to work on Tuesday before I go home for my actual Christmas vacation, but I used the last of my personal days to have myself a merry little staycation of a long weekend. A vacation calls for “Vacation Cereal,” you know, the kind of breakfast you’re only allowed to eat on special occasions because they aren’t considered ‘brain food.’
I sat down this morning to eat my bowl of Reese’s Puffs and ‘read’ the back of the box. Remember the days when a breakfast’s worth of word searches and mazes and riddles were provided on the back of the breakfast packaging?
When I saw the back of this particular box, I thought, Isn’t this ironic? Yeah, I really do think.
At 18, I would have checked off five or six things. I scored the school newspaper equivalent of the winning goal my senior year in high school. I’d kept more than one pointless collection and raised money for more than one charity at that age. I got away with a stellar practical joke at 19 (retaliation is the worst). At 20, I swung across a canyon, which close enough to bungee jumping to count, I think, and probably as close as I want to come.
I’ve idolized a handful of people, including authors and actors both living and dead, and I’ve met a couple of them. I’ve made discoveries, literally and metaphorically, though to my knowledge, nothing has been named after me.
A couple of these items don’t make much sense, though. For one thing, I’ve met plenty of other Emily‘s. I think there were two others in my pre-school class. I’ve never met someone who shares my full name and I’ll be just fine if I never do. That’s more like a bizarre coincidence than a life goal. Another quandry: 18-year-olds haven’t been licensed drivers for even two years. In some states, they aren’t even allowed to drive across state lines after dark before they turn 18. Just when are you supposed to take a road trip from coast to coast?
Leave a Reply