.becoming soft.

While driving home from Millcreek Canyon on Sat. I was relating to Roy the story of my first and only flat tire. I was driving my wonderful roomates old beater up to Logan, which I always did because she hated driving. There we were...two girls,in dresses mind you, on the side of the free way. While Emily made sure I was taken care of(giving me a pillow case to kneel on), I got to work getting the car jacked and lug nuts taken off. Whenever I tell that story, I feel incredibly independent...like "check out my mad skills...in a dress none the less". That was me in college, killing bugs, changing light bulbs...you know, really HARD stuff, but I did it on my own...almost like I had to prove something. I made the comment to Roy, that I'm getting soft. Soft in the sense that I go running to Roy if there's a spider that needs to be squashed, or a light bulb changed. And it's not because I can't do it, it's just easier for Roy to do it. What's happened to me? Am I done proving myself or something? Or maybe I'm just proving myself in other ways...???