Flight of Fancy

When I was younger, I think I thought this is what my 20s would look like.

Now, I start fires, but not deliberately. I don't even own an apron. I rarely harness a stool's bongo-like qualities for an impromptu drum circle, and I definitely can't sing and serve at the same time. The kitchen in the apartment I rent is an eighth the size of that one. And there is for sure no dancing.

Maybe someday I'll find myself cooking in a good sized kitchen, cranking out some crunchy grooves, but for now, it's just me and the microwave.