Tomorrow is my seventeenth birthday. Seriously the most pointless year of your life. Eleven you graduate from Cub Scouts. Twelve is Aaronic Priesthood (this is for Mormon boys, I guess). Thirteen your a teenager. Fourteen you become a teacher. Fifteen you get a permit. Sixteen you get a license. Eighteen your an adult. Nineteen is mission. Same with twenty and the one afterwards. Seventeen? Nothing.
So am I excited? I guess. It's not like my life is going to be monumentally different tomorrow. I'll have aged a day, relatively speaking. Really, most of everything is relative. Dimensions.
2 comments:
so many song lyrics are about being 17. you can enjoy that for a whole year.
Well, who cares about music? Oh wait. Us.
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