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Weird moment
Sep. 22nd, 2011 02:16 pmHmm. Driving back from doing the recycling and settling the balance on utilities stuff... I came to a startling realization.
I think... I'm an adult.
Like, I picked up the house recycling because I was there to grab a receipt, had the truck, and was going to the recycling center anyway. And not that it was overflowing and we NEEDED to get it done, or anyone in the house was griping. But I was there, it needed doing, and I did it. I'm the house husband in my place. Loading the dishwasher, actually putting the TP on the holder, doing the trash. I've reached that point where it needs doing and I do it and neither mind nor expect much notice.
I mean, I've had to re-jumpstart my "career" (heavy emphasis on the quote-unquote) so often, I sometimes fall into this self-deprecating trap of "When the hell will I be an adult and not some struggling kid that can't manage to take care of myself?"
Well, not that I'm chasing around after a bratling (or herd of bratlings) or paying bills with a spouse when most people have that "I'm an adult" feeling. No, 29, and no fanfare, and volunteering and driving around on a little island in Alaska in an endearingly rattletrap pickup truck, is when I finally have a quiet moment of "Well, I guess I'm a grownup."
/unrelated. And I know I owe a picspam post. I really do. I will get to it, I promise.
I think... I'm an adult.
Like, I picked up the house recycling because I was there to grab a receipt, had the truck, and was going to the recycling center anyway. And not that it was overflowing and we NEEDED to get it done, or anyone in the house was griping. But I was there, it needed doing, and I did it. I'm the house husband in my place. Loading the dishwasher, actually putting the TP on the holder, doing the trash. I've reached that point where it needs doing and I do it and neither mind nor expect much notice.
I mean, I've had to re-jumpstart my "career" (heavy emphasis on the quote-unquote) so often, I sometimes fall into this self-deprecating trap of "When the hell will I be an adult and not some struggling kid that can't manage to take care of myself?"
Well, not that I'm chasing around after a bratling (or herd of bratlings) or paying bills with a spouse when most people have that "I'm an adult" feeling. No, 29, and no fanfare, and volunteering and driving around on a little island in Alaska in an endearingly rattletrap pickup truck, is when I finally have a quiet moment of "Well, I guess I'm a grownup."
/unrelated. And I know I owe a picspam post. I really do. I will get to it, I promise.
