I, teenager

It's my school holidays, I tell everyone with affected cutesiness.
I hang out. Slack out. Bum around. (Wow. Haven't heard 'bum around' since the eighties.)
My bestest friend is buying new furniture for her second house second kid in tow.
My pals all shake their singleton heads and say they're old. (rhyme completely unintended)
And I am still in let's play pretend land.
School holidays! YaaaAAaaaay! hOooORaY!

I couchsurf all night, hang out at coffeeshops, watch gigs, read Seventeen magazine for fashion tips, wear minis with tights.
I'm not angsty. I am not ashamed of my immaturity. I don't feel old.

I do feel that this likeness is a little unnatural though.
Because I'm a little bit too rich to be a teen. And I don't have a curfew.
Plus, have you ever met a grateful teenager?
I'm probably the first.

Damn, I'm lucky!