More stuff

So. The Crocodile Hunter's dead. I'm personally not a huge fan of his, especially because he has a zoo, and I don't support zoos, animal circuses, rodeos and bullfights, as much as I am against pet mills and factory farms. I'm sorry, but NO. However, he gave awareness to people, and he cared for animals in his own way. So rest in peace, Steve.
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Mom and Dad are back...and I'm glad. And I got lotsa new stuff. Clothes!!!! A bag!!!! Teeeeeaaaaa!!!! None of it's leather or silk or fur. No honey, though one product has yogurt--and it's a gift. Eek. Oh well. It still was sweet of her, though. Luuuuffff. And I do realize I'm lucky. Then I got Mom this new Frog bearista magnet from Starbucks. She likes it; I'm glad. We texted while they were away--Mom and me: WHOA! My technophobe Mom. I'm so proud. But nothing beats seeing them, hearing them, kissing them. I'm glad they're home.
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So much to do, so little time is a mantra most people already have on autopilot. I am not an exception. Indeed, I wish there were more hours in a day to accommodate all the things I set out to do. Then again, with more hours would also be more time to procrastinate, or get sidetracked, or nap, and whatnot. Ah, to heck with it. There will never be “enough” time; however, one can choose to do something about it or not. Now I should get off my lazy butt and do the former. No more excuses; no more “breaks.”

Was finally able to meet up with R. last Saturday evening, and it was plain surreal seeing her again, and this time not professionally but socially. Walls weren’t erected as high, and we could talk about all kinds of topics, for which I am glad :) One thing she mentioned in particular was that I’m growing up so quickly—down a straight and narrow path. And she sighed. Then I sighed. Maybe. Haha: I don’t really like thinking about it. Well, thing is, being one of the “elders” of the “next generation,” on both sides of the family, I feel I am obligated to take on responsibility. I know it’s a choice I can choose to do or not to do, but I care too much not to, anymore, because I’ve seen that, too often, no one else will step in. Maybe, too, my parents ingrained in me very deeply that sense of responsibility, even the Golden Rule. Oh well. But now, I worry about the time slipping by me. As much as some would say I still have my whole life before me, I agree with my friend Nicole in saying that, increasingly, one must already have a life plan to ascribe to. And indeed, I have my own dreams to consider. However, they seem to be from a different planet as that of where my family resides in! I have also been asked by relatives when I will “settle down” to assume responsibility over my parents’ company. Ackackack. This despite my telling them I have no interest in taking over. But now, with all the pressure, I wonder if I should—sacrifice my dreams and “continue their legacy.” At this point, I think my dreams can wait, but then I fear failure. I am not the economist my Dad is, nor the visual artist and color genius my Mom is. I don’t think I’m even cut out for the job! On the other side of the sphere, there are my dreams. What if they aren’t lucrative? I sure as hell don’t want to return like a prodigal daughter. No frickin’ way. So yes, I’m scared to take the leap on either side. Heck, I’m not even sure about my graduate studies-status now. And what about “settling down?” Sometimes, that seems to be the escapist way out, just so I won’t have individual finances to think about. But who says that if I get hitched, I won’t have money problems? I would like the whole shebang one day, though, but I don’t even know if I’ll get it. Ohmygod; of course: the more I hem and haw, the less I get things done, and the less I want to go on.

So yes, I’m growing up so fast. But I don’t want to think about it so much, at least for now. I’ll cross that when I get there.