Being A Grown-Up

I was wondering when it would happen to me.  I would be walking down the street, minding my business, and then it would suddenly hit me:  I was no longer a kid. 

But it never did.  I’m 23 years old and I’m still precariously perched on the precipice of adulthood, subconsciously unwilling to cross the threshold.  I have one foot ready to walk out of the door, but the other one is stubbornly wrapped around the door jam, refusing to let me leave.

Adulthood comes and goes for me in grand, sweeping waves.  For example, yesterday was an adult day for me.  I stayed over a friend’s house, woke up in Beacon Hill, walked through the commons to the train, showered, cleaned, put on my grown up clothes, and went to dinner at MET Boston for Restaurant Week with a girlfriend.

Grown up clothes, for those of you who just frowned in perplexity, are clothing that does not include rips, stains, fades, studded jewels, or too much skin.  They usually involve some sort of heel, a small purse, and layers.

I was in bed by 12 in preparation for work at 8am the next day, and I was really feelin’ myself.

The day before, however, was a 100% kid day for me.  I had gone to bed way too late that Saturday before, so when I woke up for my part-time waitressing job, I wasn’t feeling too good.  Instead of sucking it up and just suffering the consequences of my actions, I went to work grouchy and proceeded to waste ten hours of my life refusing to take tables.  When I got off, instead of going to bed and replenishing my body, I decided to spend the little money I had earned at the bar next door with a coworker.  That was not a smart day for me.   

So, yeah.  I’m 23 years old and, admittedly, I spend about 60% of my days being a kid and only 40% being an adult.  *Womp*

I started a new job today; an actual, entry-level job that puts me on the path that I see for my future self, and it already has me feeling more like 50/50 than 60/40… definitely a step in the right direction, if I do say so myself.

Maybe one day, when my stubborn foot is ready to relinquish its hold on the door jam, it will all of a sudden hit me that I am an adult and there will be a brief moment of panic before I remember that I prepared appropriately for it, so there’s nothing to worry about.

Maybe it’s going to creep up on me little by little, until one day I realize, with only mild interest, that I am an actual adult and I’ll smile to myself, remembering this blog post and how silly I was.  But, then I’ll just shrug and carry on with my adult business.

   I don’t know what’s going to happen… but I’m definitely excited for it.

In the meantime, I’ll keep preparing by padding my wardrobe with as many grown-up clothes as I can get.  I’m feeling the “I like to summer at Martha’s Vineyard” look currently.

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