This morning, I biked to Starbucks and got myself a chocolate croissant and a grande ice water. I sat in the window of the Starbucks and looked out over the tables, scrolling through Pinterest and eating my croissant.

Today was a good day, not least because, now that I have a bike, if I want to go to the library, I can take myself. If I want to take myself out to breakfast, I can do that, too. I have a debit card, I earn twenty-something dollars a week babysitting on Fridays and changing Spawn’s diapers for my sister, who watches him Monday-Thursday but refuses to change diapers, and I have a bike that I can use to get to the nearby shopping complex.

It’s lovely. I am independent, and free, and I can do whatever I want. I feel like an adult, and I got a bank statement a week ago and it’s hanging on our fridge because it makes me feel like a grown up, even if all it says on it is





_______ LIBRARY–6.25


This independence is even more important now that both my parents are working, because now I don’t have to just stay inside all day, tamely, and I don’t have to wait for my mom to make time in her busy schedule to take me places.

Admittedly, this does lead to the occasional lapse in self control, such as the fact that I’m eating a pastry a day. But hey! It’s only one pastry, and I biked to get it, that has to count for something. (ITS SO DELICIOUS THOUGH TOTALLY WORTH IT.)


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