Thursday, January 19, 2012

Adulthood is in the Eye of the Beholder

There's a part of me that has always felt like I'm out of the house without my mother's permission. D'you know what I mean? Despite the fact that I haven't lived at home in... going on 9 years(?). Despite the fact that I file my taxes by myself and pay rent every month. Despite the fact that I wake up every morning, take a shower, make coffee, go to a job that I love, come home, make dinner for myself and my cat, and occasionally even clean up after myself--despite the fact that I am a relatively self-sustaining, individual 28 year old--I still feel like my parents are gone for the weekend and left me with $20 with which to do as I please.

This morning I put a check in the mail to the IRS to pay my last year's taxes that I'd forgotten about until just about last night. Mailing a check, mostly unprompted, to the IRS? Adult activity. I sat down and wrote up a budget for the month. Adult activity. Did a load of laundry before I was in dire need of clean unders. Adult activity. It's indisputable, I'm so far out of childhood that I shouldn't be surprised anymore when something so grown up bites me. But those kinds of things are no big deal. I can always talk myself out of feeling adult about those things.

But you guys, when I go grocery shopping and use my re-usable bags, when I haul my parcels up the stairs and put them away into the cupboards, freezer and refrigerator--that's when I feel like a bonafide lady person.

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