Adulting All Over The Place, Part Two.

Today’s blog post is on a Thursday because, as the title suggests, I have been stuck in Adult World.  This means I’ve been dealing with the stress of moving (over multiple days– who the heck ends a lease on the 29th of a month?), I’ve been working a taxing job pretty much non-stop (no matter how much I love it), and for the first time in my life I’m actually supporting myself.

I feel like a grown-up.  When I moved out here a couple months ago, I was pretty nervous:  perfectly capable and aware of that, but nervous.  I felt like I had to be missing something, because there was no way I was ready for this.

I was fine, of course. Everyone goes through this at some point in their lives.

But that– as well as working a job that requires me to be a professional grown-up– got me thinking about what it means to be an adult in the first place.


Words of Wisdom

My mother had some wonderful, poetic words of wisdom for me when I was growing up: “Adults are just kids in big, wrinkly bodies.”  I’ve never heard anything more true in my life, and I think that’s what has so many of my generation confused about growing up.

I’ve said it before: kids are taught that adults are a different species.  And I’m sure that isn’t new to us: my mom also has a story about the first time she realized she could purchase a candy bar at the grocery store, and nobody was going to stop her. Every person in the world has been through this.

But there are other differences. I work with kids on a daily basis: I spend my days telling people to stop licking their feet.  Or asking them why the heck they decided to make fun of a perfectly normal little girl by calling her a hamster. Or forbidding them from taking the swim test because the past four times they’ve done it they’ve accepted their fate halfway through, sunk under the water, and had to be rescued.

Kids are weird, guys. And yet I’m pretty sure we’ve all called our friends hamsters at least once in our adult lives, right? Or done the bizarre equivalent.


The difference being…

…Experience, I guess. I’m not really sure at what point I turned into a grown-up.  Parts of me have been an adult since I was four, parts of me still really enjoy eating a bowl of cereal and binge-watching The Powerpuff Girls at midnight.  Emotional experience tells you how to handle the social world: physical experience tells you how to handle situations.

You don’t know not to lick your foot until someone dares you to do it in fourth grade.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  I’ve been kept awake for the past three nights by a 30-something-year-old child who plays his music at ungodly volumes in the apartment below me.  Fortunately, I’ve got quite a few pretty mature kids to talk to at work, so I guess it evens out.

Updates will resume as normal next week.


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