The unthinkable finally happened: I ran out of space on my bookshelf. People have often suggested that I buy fewer books, but that’s not the answer. Books are a big part of my self-care and what makes my space feel like home. I’ve loved them ever since I was a kid.

It hurts to grow up and everybody does
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be an adult and how it feels very different from what I imagined it to be when I was a kid. As a kid it felt like all adults must have things figured out, but I’m beginning to suspect that I assumed incorrectly. I recently had a moment where I looked around and realized that my friends—and I, too—are working adult jobs at reputable companies and I didn’t really feel it happening. I knew at some point we would be adults and become the ones running the world, but I thought it would feel different. Or feel like something at least.