
Lori Stofft, Marketing Manager, The Sun and YumaSun.com
I had a realization the other day, and it stopped me cold as I was chewing my vitamins and chasing with V8: I’m an adult.
Most of my friends are adults. The people I work with, mostly adults.
More fascinating than the realization that I am an adult was the comprehension gap I’ve evidently been experiencing for the last, say, 16 years. Because this year, I turn 40, and it’s just dawned on me that I’m all grown up.
It could be the conversation I had with my (more youthful) sister-in-law, Susan, about the southward progress of my neck. It could be that for this decade birthday, all I”m yearning for is a new BBQ grill, not a Harley, not a sports car, not a cruise. It could be that I’ve been spending a lot of time this past year figuring out what we should do for retirement, should we move to a bigger home, or be conservative and hunker down for the predicted economic downturn people are moaning about.
I shared this thought with two friends recently. One, TS, advised that whatever I thought I was, say last week, and then again after my EFFING REALIZATION of AGE (ERA) probably it was all personal smoke and mirrors, because, after all, I’ve had the same job for like 17 years, and I have a 23 year old son and a 6 year old daughter, so I was an adult to SOMEBODY for quite a while.
Another friend, CG, sort of glossed over my ERA and said something placating like we don’t ever have to REALLY grow up.
I wonder if feeling like an adult all of the sudden is akin to loosing your baby teeth, no more flying dreams, no more silly escapades. Too much time with financial planners. Hell, last week, I even made a list of dinners we were going to eat. For like 5 days in a row. And posted it on the refrigerator.
I swear I don’t recognize me.
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