Do you consider yourself an adult?

Let’s look at the basics.  Hubs and I are coming off a week month most of 2012where we have repeatedly told each other, ‘we are failing at being adults.’  Case in point, I can’t remember the last time we actually went grocery shopping.  Yes, we of course go to the store and buy enough to feed ourselves (and our pets), but actually going to the store to stock up? 

Nope.  The excuses are many – shopping in Qatar is a giant pain in the ass, there are no coupons, we’re too tired from working during the week, driving in Qatar is an even more giant pain in the ass, parking is a pain in the ass, why bother because we can just walk down to the little store and get what we need?  Food, which is as basic as it gets, is a good example, but there are plenty of others.  Call it living life with blinders, but we’re very much in a pattern of dealing with what’s in front of us and not long term goals (except Vegas, which I am bananas in front of).  I don’t like living reactionary versus being proactive, but Doha seems to have brought out the worst in us both.

Would an adult blame a city for such a thing?  Doubtful.

For some reason, when I think of ‘adult’ Jon Hamm’s Don Draper is in my head. IDK.

I could name a bunch of other equally relevant opportunities where we ultimately decide to procrastinate.  Of course, I don’t really know where or how putting something off definitively relates to being an adult.  Yes, I pay things like credit card bills and rent on time.  I even send out Christmas cards and postcards from my travels.  I keep our passports up to date.  I stick to personal deadlines for books, so I think the argument of simply not doing necessary things doesn’t equate to adulthood.   Also, awkward double negative much?  However, and this is just my view, without kids, Hubs and I are free to exist in this state for the time being.  As of now, other than one very large ginger kitty and a little lady who needs special renal cat food, we’re ultimately responsible for ourselves.  No one else.  Whether we live in a state filth (we don’t, someone comes in once a week and cleans up after our sorry asses – thanks ex-pat living!) or don’t leave the house except to exercise almost every Friday – it doesn’t matter.  And I have to think, real adults don’t live this way.  Real adults are responsible individuals who do not spend their time this way – they have commitments and responsibilities that they honor.

Even though there’s a lot I can be proud of in my 32 years (working with multinational companies, publishing 6 books, living overseas for 5+ years), to me, none of these facts somehow magically equate to my being an adult.

I guess, it’s not as if I’m waiting for the day to happen.  I don’t waste time wondering why I do or do not feel like an adult.  I don’t expect to wake up and have the Adult Fairy that sounds dirty anyway come and visit.

So, what about you?  Do you feel like an adult?  Is there an age, moment or experience where things ‘clicked’ for you?  Or, are you like me?  That day is in the sort of distance-ish future and you don’t really mind that much.

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