I don’t want to grow up. And become a real person. And get a job, a house and a family. All I want to do is watch Food Network and think about all the food that I don’t have. Or just sit on my couch and not worry about anything.

I want to gather around my kitchen table with my roommates and feast on the cheesecake that is not actually in our fridge. I want each of us to wear primary colors and have one-liners ready and waiting. I’ll just skip all the real life stuff and go straight to retirement. I want to live the life of a Golden Girl. Because I just don’t have time for this.

I am not ready for this whole real person, real-world, bills to pay, job to find, food to buy type life. That’s too much for one person to handle at one time. If a person tried to manage all of that at once, they would explode. But real life is coming at me fast. Too fast.

I just registered for my final semester at Gustavus. My last chance to take any class I want because I’m interested and it’s what I want to do. And, being the slightly anal, overachiever I am, I overloaded. Yikes. So much for an easy final semester.

Of course, I almost missed my registration time because I was so busy studying for a Bio test, planning out my next project in Advanced Ceramics, making dinner with my boyfriend, figuring out what to wear tomorrow, scheduling a study session with classmates, pre-planning what I’ll be writing for my senior seminar next semester and catching up on How I Met Your Mother.

It’s starting already. And I think that enough is enough. Pretty sure I’m going to retire straight out of college. Move into someone else’s pre-decorated Miami home and settle down. Just so long as I get to have a lanai. Or patio. Or veranda. Whatever it’s called.

You can come too. Yes, you can be Blanche, that’s fine. You’re probably more promiscuous than I am. I’ll be Sophia, I make a pretty good spaghetti. Just looking for a Dorothy and a Rose. And a slew of men for all of us to court. You know how it goes. We can take dancing classes, or not. And we can hang out in our kitchen and eat ice cream. We can gossip and play card games. We can even enter bowling tournaments and the Shady Pines beauty pageant. Let’s get hairdos and go shopping and be super sassy the entire time. Let’s get some guest stars like Sonny Bono and make obscure references to things from back in the day.

That sounds nice. That sounds like something I can make time for.

Something I’ll be good at. Something entirely unattainable. So for now, I guess I can just settle on watching multiple reruns of The Golden Girls on WeTV and the Hallmark Channel and eating my roommate’s secret stash of ice cream from the freezer.