Nineteen

Just A Note-I'm plugging away at my book, and I'm really enjoying the writing process. Looking back at myself while I was doing the project and writing about myself as a nineteen year old is one of my favorite things. The nostalgia alone is intoxicating. So here's another chunk of what I think will be in my book. It will most likely stay as the first chapter. Short and sweet, it's sort of a snapshot of what my life looked like at the height of my lethargic days as a nineteen year old. I'd appreciate any feedback.

It’s embarrassing for me to think about, and even more for me to admit; but at one point in my life, I was a nineteen year old boy.

I’m sorry.

The typical nineteen year old boy is a vile creature. Spending most of his daylight hours burrowed away in the safety of a bedroom in his father’s suburban home; the nineteen year old only leaves the poster plastered walls of his teenage sanctuary for the occasional bathroom break, or to heat up some sort of microwavable entree. 
There is no sleep cycle for this creature. Rather, his stream of consciousness just sort of fluctuates between states of semi-awake and sort of asleep throughout the day. The nineteen year old communicates exclusively in one word -preferably one syllable- sentences, and speaks in a pseudo-language made up of a mixture of sighs, grunts, and the word “dude”. Since school is no longer mandated, brain activity slows down to a modest crawl. This particular nineteen year old dropped out of college after what he claims was a “college try” (approximately 3 weeks).

As night falls, and the world goes to sleep, the boy begins his day. He strategically waits until the rest of the house is asleep before heading into the bathroom to start his morning routine. If for some reason the boy does not wait a sufficient amount of time before leaving his room, he might run into someone. And for a boy his age, any social interaction is feared and prevented at all costs. He has learned from experience that nothing good can come from talking to anyone. His brain is still in that mushy infancy stage between childhood and adulthood, and his social skills have been on the decline since high school. Even a conversation with a family member or friend is reserved as a last resort. The chances of saying something stupid or experiencing his voice crack is more of a guarantee than a chance. 

This boy is wise to stay secluded in his room, for in his room, adults dare not enter. Due to the unbearable stench of neglected teenage laundry that permeates the walls of his den, he is safe from interrogation from a parent or loved one. Inside his room he is free to do what he wants, which is mostly drink chocolate milk and draw cartoons.

After the nineteen year old is certain that all chance of social interaction has been avoided, he heads into the bathroom. Depending on the week, he may, or may not choose to shower (a double-dabbing of deodorant stick is also an option). A fresh change of clothes happens even less frequently. Through his desire to exert the least amount of energy possible, the boy follows a rotating schedule for t-shirts and pants to ensure that he only does laundry every month or so. 

1. Wear dark colored clothing to cover up food stains
2. Alternate t-shirts daily to avoid suspicion
3. Wear jeans as long as desired (nobody cares about jeans)

In the bathroom mirror, the nineteen year old carefully examines himself. His ever changing body is in the process of becoming an adult. His scattered acne is slowly traded for patchy whiskers, and his Adam's apple is so prominent that it might tear through the skin. After about 20 minutes of flexing in the mirror, the boy inevitably decides not to shower after all. He makes a stop in the kitchen to ravage the contents of the fridge before retreating back to his musky bedroom.

Once he is settled in, he spends the rest of his waking hours scrolling through the social media feeds of his drifting high school classmates while watching documentaries about outer space.

The life of a nineteen year old is one of leisure. His schedule is relaxed, his bank account is empty, and all he really wants to do is to waste more time alone in his smelly bedroom.