I know a lot of you who read this little piece of internet business can relate to what I'm about to write about. So, even though I pay my own billz and have a job and am like "responsible" and legally considered an "adult" by the great USA, it's hard for me to really think of myself as a true adult most times. Well, except when I'm in elementary schools and the kids are in awe of me and guesstimate my age at about 103 (true story... that's how old a first grader thought I was once) and then I just feel ancient. But most of the time, I'm running around thinking about how the "adults" are some people older than me who are in charge and make decisions and actually vacuum on a regular basis instead of when the insane cleaning freak comes out in them every so often.
Like that woman. Let's call her Sheila. She looks like an adult (also, thanks Shutterstock). She never lets the milk go bad or has to wear bathing suit bottoms for underwear because she doesn't have any clean ones left. She always remembers to charge her phone before she leaves the house and pays a mortgage.
Needless to say, I do not very often feel like Sheila.
Except I did this past Sunday.
Here's the scene: I'm leaving the Village (the Claremont Village, for those unfamiliar) and I get in my car and put the key in and *sputter cough blerhg* <---- that is the sound your almost dead battery makes when you try to turn your car on and you need a new battery.
R.I.P., car battery. But instead of crying or calling my dad to figure out what I needed to do, I simply opened my (relatively neat) glove compartment, pulled out my roadside assistance card, and called for help. And then sat and waited with my Starbucks and a copy of National Geographic magazine (girl's gotta have something to read while waiting for Quali-T towing!) and didn't panic. In fact, I distinctly remember thinking "well... that's life."
Who am I? [Sheila, apparently.] The last time I needed to get a new car battery, I called my dad AND I cried and shivered and panicked in the cold, dark parking garage at the Detroit airport and felt sorry for myself for another 3 days following the incident. Now? The only reason I remember I had to get a new car battery is because my roadside assistance card is sitting on my desk waiting for me to put it back in my glove compartment tomorrow.
Being an adult is tremendously rewarding, but feels oh-so-weird at the same time. "With great power comes great responsibility." (Pop quiz - who said that originally?) I mean, it's still bizarre to wake up and look in the mirror every morning and not see my 12 year old face staring back at me. Will that every go away? Will I ever start thinking of me and my peers as the people who are in charge of stuff?
I invite you to share a moment where you truly felt like an adult... and it freaked you out. And discuss.