I’m too young for this.

So, a while ago I decided to grow out my hair, which had been in a bob for a while. But we all hit that stage of being bored with our hair and wanting to do something. I couldn’t cut it short again, and I didn’t want to dye it because I’m blonde and if I had then the color would have oh-so-ungracefully faded away and left a stain. So I went and got a dyed extension. That way I could have that bit of funkiness and then take it out whenever without having to worry about permanent effects.

Anyway, I just re-dyed it. The purple color the lady at the salon had done had faded a lot.  I just got a drug store hair dyeing kit and the color is even more the shade I originally wanted it than ever. Aaaand it makes me want to dye my whole head that purple. Really.

Even though I’m only eighteen, I’ve been struggling lately with grown-up things – particularly since I just got my first speeding ticket. Things like points on my driver’s license, court hearings, living to work/working to live, and being generally dissatisfied and discontent with my life all around have been sitting heavily in my head. Just sloshing around in there. And I just absentee voted for my city’s school board because I’ll be out of town next week.

Overall, I have a really great life. But when compared to how I want my life to be, it’s not close at all. I know this is how life tends to be, but I think it’s even more poignant because I’m eighteen and am now legally an “adult.”  But I still feel like a teenager or kid just pretending to be grown up. And what really frustrates me the most is that it’s never going to change. I don’t see a way my life will ever be what I want it to be. I’m going to school full-time and working part-time (soon to be full-time in the summer). All just to have enough money to buy gas so I can drive to work and go to school.

Back to the hair-dyeing thing, my main reason to not just do whatever with my hair I like is my boss. Or any boss, really. Where on earth could I work with purple hair? And I love painting my nails and doing my hair and dressing nice, but I can only paint my nails a neutral shade for work. I have to have my hair up and in a hat for work (which makes it difficult to recover into a good hair day if I go anywhere after), and I have to wear just a too-big black t-shirt and jeans and sneakers. For work.

And you know what? I don’t ever see it getting better. Because I’ll eventually graduate and then I’ll just be working. And having to worry about a house payment or rent. Or kids. and their school. Which means I’ll probably have to get a career job and have quotas and clients. And a cable bill. And of course a credit card bill, which I’ll probably have to apply for pretty soon. And I just don’t understand how NOT having a credit card doesn’t equal having good credit. I mean, if you don’t even put yourself in situations where you need a credit card and just be responsible and pay with cash or debit, then shouldn’t you get a default A+ or whatever? But no. Sadly, society isn’t that sensible.

I feel like I’m having a mid-life crisis. Which is really bad, because if it is mid-life, then I won’t even live to be forty. Mid-teen crisis? Whatever. And I need to fix it, but I don’t see how except to keep playing Zelda on my gameboy advance in my spare time, and holding onto that harmless shred of my childhood.

Don’t Get Me Wrong…

I really like my job. Really. But what I don’t like as much is people. And there are just a few different kinds of people that come in all the time that drive me a a little crazy.

1. The girls who come in wearing very obvious self-tanner and huge Snookie-poofs and order very complicated and picky salads, and then their boyfriends order an actual sandwich and then they say “ugh, I can’t believe you ordered that, how can you eat all that?” in a whiney, obnoxious tone.

2. People who think they deserve everything there and own it all already just because they have some sort of remote connection to the owner. Or they know his first name.

3. Anyone who wears way too much perfume or cologne.

4. People who hand their sandwiches back to me and say, “Didn’t I say to grill this???”  When, in fact, they did not.

5. The women who randomly walk up to the counter and say “CHOCOLATE MILK?!?” And I’m all, “uhhh, what about it?”  and they’re all “They didn’t bring it over!” and I’m like, “it’s right there in the cooler, you get it yourself.” and they try to act like they were still right to be angry as they walk over to get it.

6. Men who are more than twice my age who insist on “taking me away from all this” and promising that I “will never have to make another sandwich again… for money.”

7. People who order while talking on their phone. Especially when they’re in the middle of a monologue and I feel like I have no way to ask any follow-up questions (what kind of bread, any cheese, what kind of toast, etc.).

8. Girls that come in and only order a toasted bagel with cream cheese to go. Not only because this is the exact scenario in which I almost cut off my finger the other day (my boss doesn’t think a bagel-slicer or pre-sliced bagels is sensible), but because it really makes no sense. We’re a cafe/deli. We don’t even make our own bagels, we get them from New York Bagels every week and flash-freeze them to keep them fresh. So it’s not like there’s any special reason our bagels are better than anyone else’s or anything. So if you really want a to-go, toasted bagel and cream cheese, I really just don’t understand why you don’t just go to Starbucks or Tim Hortons or even New York Bagels.