Monday, December 15, 2014

Signs I'm An Adult

This summer, I made the move north to Minneapolis because I liked the city from the little I'd seen of it and I had a scattered few friends there, almost half of whom moved away within a few months of moving to town.  One has come back and brought another friend, but the mutating social network is a different story entirely.

I have my own place, a full-time job with no end date, insurance, a retirement fund, and this lingering sensation that I am at once older than I expected to be to be sitting in my pajamas at 10:00am on a Monday and too young to be an adult in charge of the care and keeping of myself and a small furry critter.  The job, while making me more financially comfortable and solvent than any job I've had before, has done less to make me fee like an adult that a few things I would like to share.

This year, I have become the proud owner of the following:

1. An iron*

2. An ironing board **

3. A vacuum***

And done these grown up things:

4. Had multiple dinner parties

5. Separated my darks from whites****







*I bought the smallest iron I could find.  The face is hardly larger than my hand.

**I almost justified putting a towel on the floor and calling it good enough, but then opted for the half-size ironing board.

***It's a hand-held battery powered vacuum.  But rechargeable!  And larger than the one you're thinking of, I am certain; it's not some lame handi-vac but it is certainly no Dyson.

****Really I just looked for things that probably wouldn't show indigo that I was terrified would bleed from my new jeans and I couldn't bring myself to wash them on their own.

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