It has become clear to me that I am not too thrilled with this whole growing up, being an adult thing. I am finding there is a lot to be desired here – like some one to pay my rent, some way to deal with the endless stream of paper that comes in the mail, and I won’t even begin to mention the fact that my body no longer cooperates with my every wish.
I suppose being 44 and just coming to this conclusion may seem a bit unusual. No doubt. But unusual and me, well we just seem to go together often and repeatedly. You see, this whole adulthood thing has really just hit me. Especially in the last week – since I turned 44. What I have been doing for the last 24 – 26 years that most would consider adulthood, I don’t think was adulthood. I think it was a feigning, an imitation of, or maybe even an impression of adulthood. But not an actual adulthood. Part of it had to do with money and my father. He gave it to me, and I spent it. Like I said, I did my best impression of adulthood, I did use the money for things like rent, utilities, health insurance for the most part. I was not shoving it up my nose, or buying euro trash bottles of Crystal at least. (Well, okay in my twenties I did a lot of shoving up my nose, but I was mostly using my first husband’s inheritance for that, I at least was the one who knew not to squander away MY father’s money on that crap!)
So here I am now, stuck, managing, groping my way through being an adult in a life that might not have prepared me for it all as much as I would have liked. But I bet, I just would put a little bet on a hunch that I am not alone.
More from the front later. Much love and don’t take it all too seriously.