The Glamor of Being an Adult

I heard an interview the other day on NPR about a new streaming series that focuses on adulting, and the wonder of wonders is that it casts actual 40-something actors; this is, apparently, a novel idea. I read an article on the NPR website as well that breaks down the "homework" of being an adult, things like taxes and bills and making appointments, etc. This seems to be a recurring theme on social media, too--at least on my Facebook news feed. When I hear my older students talking about "when I turn 18" followed by a list of things they will and will not do, I often chuckle and grimace in equal measure. How the media often portrays the age of majority is a far cry from what it really looks like. Erma Bombeck once said something to the effect that one measure of adulthood is when you are the one who has to clean the collected yuck out of the kitchen sink drain. I believe it, both in reality and as a metaphor.

Of late, I've been pondering what time is "too early" to go to bed. Seriously. When I was younger, even as a young adult in my 30s and early 40s, it was unheard of for me to be in bed before 11pm. O good Lord, I fall asleep in my recliner (another mark of age?!) most nights before 9. I complain about why so many interesting programs start at 9 or even 10pm on TV. Concerts that start at 8? I have to think hard about that. It's easier in the summer, to be sure, but... "5:30 comes early" rings in my head. 

Adulting, something that once appeared to be a glamorous state of being, is really all about paperwork, gross drains, car appointments, and aching feet most days. Yes, the "I can do what I want" perks abound: apparently, I want to spin the mattress, clean the hair and dust from out behind the toilet, and schedule a routine mammogram.

"At least you can... " drink, buy a scratch ticket, and vote.

Yeah, sign me up. Those are tickets to freedom? Well, maybe the voting.

Have a great day! I'm off to adult my way through the grocery store and the laundry pile!

C