Tomorrow is the last day of work at the grocery store. I told my manager I'd never come back and after my shift lets out I'm going to take my smock and throw it over the cliff where we can see New York City amongst patches of glowing orange towns. My friends and I went there the other night and stared out, each mulling over our own set of thoughts in blissful silence. In a few more weeks I'll be twenty and no longer a naive teenager recklessly careening through responsibility. Not that I was ever really irresponsible, but now I have no excuse for forgetting dates and remedying hangovers in the morning. It's all so sad and exciting at the same time. I'm distancing myself from the place where I was born and raised. My friends are traveling down their own paths while I make choices which could have a bearing over the rest of my life. And I love it. I love the exhilaration of not knowing where I may be in three hundred and sixty-five days from now but I'm also a little worried because maybe I'll have to swallow my pride and work at the grocery store again for yet another summer. I won't let it happen. I know I can do better, I believe there is always something better.