The Beginning

Where to start??? I guess the beginning would be the most natural place. That's usually where most stories begin. However, since the only people who will probably be reading this already know who I am and are aware of my beginnings, I think I will just pick up here....I am 24 years old and I live in the room upstairs. My childhood bedroom to be exact. The walls are painted a different color and the closet certainly holds more clothes but this is the place where I have slept since I was 12. It's not a overly exciting room, nothing really distinguishes it from any other room in the house. Except that it's my room. Sure, I shared it with my sister for a time growing up but eventually she moved next door and the closet became mine to make a mess of and the the dresser became mine to....make a mess of. It is, without a doubt, my room. Mess and all.
When I returned home from college after graduating, I figured it would only be for a short time. Because that's what you do, right? Go to college, graduate, move back home, then move away from home. That's the natural course of events. I never imagined that almost two and a half years later, I would still be waking up in this bedroom. I won't lie and say that it's the worst thing to happen to me. I certainly can imagine worse fates. Actually a number come to mind . But it is, without a doubt, not what I aimed for in the beginning.
Over, the last year or so, I have started to discover that a lot of what I had aimed for wasn't to be. To be heading towards midtwenties and still be waking up in the same room just being the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. But I'm finding out that that's ok. So the natural course of events took a wrong turn somewhere. A left instead of a right. A rural road instead of the freeway. I used to wonder what I was missing not being at the same point that others my age were at. Not any more though. Now I wonder what I would have missed if I hadn't been living in the room upstairs. I guess, sometimes, the scenic route is better....