When Will I Be A Real Adult?

I grabbed two hard-boiled eggs this morning for a quick breakfast at my desk because I was being responsible since I didn’t want to show up late. Hustled into work, because being on time is more important than eating, excited to take a moment to enjoy my pitiful breakfast, I cracked the first one open. It wasn’t hard boiled and now the yolk is all over my shoe.

I am now eating my chicken soup that was meant for my lunch as my breakfast, and its getting cold because the office insists on having the AC at a negative degree.

Also, you would think, “Hey McKenna, why don’t you just walk over to that little cafe next to the office to grab some grub? You are a working gal who takes care of herself.” Oh, because I have $100 for the next two weeks and actually my mom takes care of me a lot.

As Pinocchio once said “Am I a real boy?” I am asking myself “Am I a real adult?”

And Mondays are still really hard.

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