Life became one big question mark -- Where will I live? What job will I have? -- and I found comfort in reading about characters who were just as unsure and terrified as I.
As of today, I've owned my first home for five weeks.
I have no clue what I'm doing.
I'm learning about all kinds of things, like homeowners insurance and showers that drip through the ceiling of your finished basement. (I also learned that showers aren't supposed to do that. Go figure.) These new things all cost money. I'm frequently covered in oil-based primer. It's not pretty.
But here's the thing. It's my house. Mine!
From the so-hideous-it's-awesome jungle wallpaper in my stairwell to the just plain hideous pink-and-blue tile bathroom with duck pattern wallpaper (notice a wallpaper theme here?), it's all mine.
(Ok, it's Future Husband's house too, but just a little bit.)
[For real, this is my house's stairwell landing. Life-sized jungle scene wallpaper.]
Anyway, what I mean is that I can completely identify with all those teenage protagonists who take leaps of faith and are building their parachutes on the way down, because I'm doing that too. And I have a feeling that, at every stage in my life, I'll be doing that.
Yep, YA lit and I will have a long, happy relationship.
But the duck wallpaper? That's gotta go.