"Grown Up"

Periodically I do something that makes me feel particularly adult. Like calmly walking into Sears and buying a dryer, or spending my tax return on a vacuum cleaner. Seriously, I get so responsible and “nesty” that I almost panic and stare down strangers wondering if they realize I am some sort of an adult imposter that secretly eats macaroni and cheese and ice cream for supper. I make awkward eye contact with them and try to smile and look serene. Adults look serene, right? I am probably the creepy woman at the store glaring at the other patrons, imposing my mastery of maturity on them to cover up the fact that I want to skip out of the store and giggle like a middle schooler.

All I know is that a real adult probably doesn’t sit in her car and scream “I bought a dryer!” over and over to herself in the parking lot. She probably doesn’t call up her bff to tell her that she bought a dryer and whisper, “I feel so grown up. It’s incredible.” to her like someone talking about their first kiss.

Nor does a grown up lady stop vacuuming her floor at nine o’clock in the evening and say, “Self, you’re doing an awfully adult thing. Go you, with your responsibility and accomplishments! Wait, wait. Holy hell. I am a grown up. I don’t feel like a grown up. Do I want to be a grown up? Do I have a choice? Am I just caving to societal pressure to fit a certain gender mold? Do other grown ups periodically stop and panic about being gender molded grown up? Is this normal? Will I ever stop feeling like I am being a fake grown up? Am I going to be ninety calling J and whispering to her that I feel so grown up now that I broke a hip? Screw buying a dryer, this is where it is at! Probably. What about my conversation with V talking about buying grown up things. I am 27 should I really be amused when I can buy whatever I want anymore? Shouldn’t I have grown out of this by now? How responsible is it really to buy groceries and cleaning supplies. This is like when I reorganized my cabinets. I wonder if my mom ever had thoughts like this? Did my grandma? I can’t picture my grandma having thoughts like this because she was a REAL lady. Not like the imposter lady that I am. Crap it is almost ten I still have to mend those pants. F. I hate being a grown up.”

Upon much reflection this is what I think about being grown up: F this noise, I wanna play Barbie’s and eat chips.

Okay, okay, fine. Legal booze consumption and home ownership do have their advantages. But I have to wonder, will I ever feel like an adult or will this sense of playing house/dress up continue to pervade?