Am I an Adult?
Crazy things are happening in my life, and they all somehow relate to being a real person.
I have discovered that, while you must be 25 to rent a car in the US, you only have to have a driver’s license to rent a U-Haul. How do I know this? Well, because… I rented a U-Haul. I rented a U-Haul and I drove around all day and I carried furniture up and down stairs and I talked to my first ever landlady, and I wrote checks for security deposits and for rent and… am I an adult?
The government says I am. Once we finished the moving process, I stopped by the local liquor store and bought some beer, while my future housemate bought the pizza, so we could thank our friends that helped us in the whole moving business. I showed my ID, handed over my credit card, and made my first ever purchase of alcohol in the USA. I guess I’m an adult.
I guess part of growing up is having that moment more and more often that you are an adult. That you have real responsibilities and a real life and a real job (hopefully) and real bills (ugh!). I guess at some point these moments will be all my moments and then I’m really an adult, but for now I embrace both the moments of “real” adult life and the moments I still get to be a child.