quarter-life crisis

Is there such thing as a quarter-life crisis? Because I'm pretty sure that's what I've been going through these past couple of weeks. I haven't had an affair, or bought a new sports car or done anything else that people who go through a mid-life crisis supposedly do, but I did put in my two weeks at Victoria's Secret + dye my hair red. And no, it's not because I have a huge girl crush on Jaclyn Hill and want to look exactly like her, ya silly! It's totally because of this quarter-life crisis I'm going through. Because, holy $h!z is summer really almost over?! Am I really only 21 days away from being an adult and having a grownup job?! Answer: YES. So obviously dying your hair a different color means that you're still hip and fun and you have all the time in the world to complete your "Summer of Shay" to-do list.

But for some reason, I forgot that dying my hair would help me feel better about moving on to a new chapter in my life, because I totally freaked out to Chris last Friday night. 

Babe! I haven't accomplished anything I wanted to this Summer! Can we go on a bike ride to the temple tomorrow?! And how about we go visit Tidbit next weekend? And take the raft up to to Tibble Fork? We need to do all those things before August 18th. DO ALL THE THINGS! 

Luckily, Chris was sweet and only giggled at my ridiculousness for a second before reassuring me that I still have time to do all of those things before school starts. Now that I worked my last shift at Vickie's today, I'm starting to agree with him + not get as many panic attacks thinking about the fact that I'm going to be a grownup next month. 

All I have to do now is make it through girl's camp this week... which is obviously off to a great start seeing as how it's almost 2am and I'm still putting little handouts together and waiting for a load of laundry to dry so I can  have clean underwear while I'm there. 

...I'm just going to keep blaming my quarter-life crisis I'm going through right now, ok?

No matter how terrified I may be that my Summer of Shay is coming to an end, or that I'm less than a month away from becoming an actual teacher, I can take comfort in knowing that I never ever ever have to fold another freaking panty table again. PEACE OUT, VICKIE'S!

And helloooooo adulthood! (+ many more crises)