Jun 2014
Josie Bungert

Postgrad with my parents: My childhood bedroom

There are many interesting aspects of my day-to-day life as a postgrad 21-year-old living at home with her parents (for my first post on this, click here). I would say the most interesting, and most strange, part is being back in my childhood bedroom.

Segment 2: My childhood bedroom

Sure, I’ve stayed in my bedroom every summer and every break that I have come home for. And one summer, we painted it to make it a little more adult, getting rid of fuzzy lamps and adding a new bedspread that isn’t hot pink with orange fringes all over it (yes, I am truly a child of the ’70s). But though it may¬†feel slightly more adult, it’s a strange thing sleeping in the room that has been an ocean for Ariel to swim in and a place with unlimited dolphin figurines in the past, seemingly with no end date in sight.

When I moved back in, it felt right. There’s nothing more comfortable than being home, and there’s nothing more easy than being back “home.” I’m sure the rest of you postgrad-ers back at home can agree. However, now that it’s been three weeks, I have discovered something:

I am a 21-year-old living the life of a 16-year-old.

I say that in humor, because it’s hilarious. I not only live in my old environment, but all of the things I do scream “I’m actually 16.” Since I am still unemployed, getting out of the house is, like, a big deal. Just like when I got my license. I also hang out with my mom a lot, and volunteer to chauffeur my rugrat brothers wherever they need to be so I can drive with the windows down and blast music no one but me likes. I paint my nails, help my mom with dinner, and, just like when I was a teenager, cuddle up on the family room couch with my cat while watching whatever super summer hit is on TV at the time. And all of this is a result of the room I live in.

And at the end of the day, I go back to my childhood bedroom. My family has never moved out of my house, and I have never changed bedrooms. When I ascend the stairs to the familiar room at night and get ready for bed, I feel like I am going to wake up in the morning and go to high school.

That’s the other thing: I have fallen into a bedtime, and a routine. I haven’t had a “bedtime” in God knows how long. I was so used to having a weird, college schedule, where I would get home at weird times and go to bed at weird times. Now I go upstairs around the time mom and dad to, and go to sleep with the familiar sounds of my old home around me.

Anyways, “being 16” again isn’t too terrible. I have never felt more young, and what’s wrong with that?

Share your postgrad stories with me! Tweet at me, @jlbungert