On New Babies and Loss of Friends and Growing Up (And all that entails)

It occurred to me, last night as I lay wide awake well into the wee hours of insomnia, that I'm not appreciating this time of leisure nearly enough. I may never have this opportunity again.  My anxiety is misplaced and unnecessary.  What a fantastic time to focus on remembering to breath, remembering to take a moment in my pursuit of happiness to just be happy.

I have a complex about the prospect of my having dementia someday.  It seems like acceptance of the likelihood being completely fact will help me deal with it, deal with my grandmother, my mother.  Knowing this gene is hiding somewhere in my body, just waiting for it's opportunity to mutate and start it's takeover of my brain and my memories is scary as shit.  I wonder if they have some kind of support group for people dealing with grandmothers dying from dementia and fearing that they will to someday have it.  

Tomorrow the Army Corp of Engineers will be flooding the Cherry Creek Trail and I'm crazy excited to go see what that looks like.  

I don't ever want to be stuck in the suburbs again.  I like the idea of a moderately sized home in the middle of the city with bakeries, concert venues, cocktail lounges, delis, bookstores and parks all with in walking distance.  I want to have season tickets to the symphony, a Vespa, a feminist husband and plants and a dog.  I'll have a membership to a yoga studio and Costco and make fantastic money doing something I love.  

I have now been asked on three separate occasions in the last 6 months to please keep the secret of a pregnancy.  I go through a process of mourning each time this happens because inevitably this means that the nature of my relationship with this person will never be the same and it's sad and it hurts.  It's painful to grow up sometimes.  And it's entirely selfish of me to feel like I'm losing my friends and family to babies.  Maybe it would help if I actually liked babies.  My life is changing into pure, unfiltered adulthood and it scares me a bit.  I'm choosing a career and thinking about what I truly want from my life and I'm partying like I won't be able to do it anymore soon.  It's like my subconscious is under the false impression that if I spend more time being irresponsible now, full-fledged adulthood will take more time to get here.  So many dynamics of my friendships just don't feel the same as they did even six months ago.  Who has changed?  Me? Them? Both of us?

But I'm 25 now.  And 30 is my benchmark for when I have to start being a big girl for real.  That's only 5 more years.  Look at how fast the last 7 years, since high school, have gone.  I think I'm doing something with my life.  I think school counts as doing something with my life.