For Rent

I'm noticing a trend in my thoughts and feelings lately, aside from the general romantic malaise that keeps coming up and I keep brushing aside.  It's been happening for a few months now, and I can't entirely discern why.  Ever since this summer, I've noticed certain signs that I've never before paid attention to that state the following: Apartment For Rent.  They're everywhere, it seems.  1 bedroom.  1 Bed, 1 Bath.  Studio.  Loft.  Seriously, they're all over the place, and I want one of them.  A lot.  More than I want to start learning how to drive (don't ask).  I'd love to have my own place, or even share it with a roommate.  For some reason, the image of an apartment has established itself in my mind as the ultimate symbol of independence.  I don't imagine this to be uncommon amongst men of my age; everyone wants a bachelor pad, and I am, myself, a bachelor, or at least just single.  I'm not sure of the difference.  Still, how awesome would that be?  My own place.  Cook my own food.  Listen to whatever music I choose without the bother of someone saying they don't like my taste, pure peace and quiet to read, and somewhere where I can entertain guests without having to ask permission of mom and dad.  Awesome.

And yet, so unrealistic.

It's times like these that, even though I am a junior in college, I realize how dependent I am on my folks.  They pay for the bulk of my schooling, with me blowing cash constantly and barely making the payments I need to make (I'm writing this in a coffee shop enjoying bottomless coffee as we speak).  I need them so much, and I wonder how well I'd make it on my own.  I've never really been good at managing money, though I have gotten better over the years.   Still, it burns a hole in my pocket, and I'm always in trouble with my credit union because of overdraws from my checking account because I never move the money out of my savings.  My own fault, really, but it's still annoying all the same.  Independence is still farther away than I previously imagined, and it makes me sad and nervous.

I don't know.  Maybe if I actually did it, it would be different.  College seems sort of like a segue way between living with your folks and complete self-dependence.  Still, the daunting threat of accumulating debt stands very tall next to my meager earnings either as a per diem employee at the hospital or working two jobs out here at school.  Makes the real world frightening beyond all reason.  Then again, it's not like my parents aren't terrified of their own bills at the end of the month or anything.  That's a part of life, right?

There's the other question of what I would do with such wonderful freedom.  Live paycheck to paycheck?  Masters degree online?  Save up?  What do you do with your own place?  Existence becomes pretty routine and somewhat mundane, but not necessarily on a mind-numbing level.  I guess in the right place this would be OK.  I'd wanna get my rear end out of Pennsylvania.  I figure it's time for me to find a new section of the world to spend some time, in or out of the US.  There's so much to consider in such a case as that, from cost of living to the area you're moving and so on.  Lots of stuff to think about.

And all of this is flying at me kinda fast.  College is over (God-willing) in a year and a half.  A YEAR AND A HALF.  That's not a whole lot of time to get my act together and figure stuff out. Damned if I know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life with a bachelors in Theological Studies.  Grad school is a necessity, but where?  How long?  Part time or full time?  MATS, or track straight to the doctorate?  So much to consider and so little time.

When did growing up get so hard?