Today is the first day in seven that I didn’t go running.
Who am I, and what have I done with myself?
Okay, so when I say running, I mean running the downhill areas of the neighborhood and then walking on half the uphill parts. But still. I’m calling it running. And at 5:30 in the morning, no less.
I’m actually somewhat enjoying it, too, which is what’s weirding me out the most. I think when you sit at a desk 37.5 hours a week, you get a little antsy. That’s my reasoning, anyway. That, and there are way too many yummy things at work for me to not exercise (we tasted chocolate yesterday, guys, I’m not kidding).
I just finished my seventh week of work. I’ve received three paychecks, paid rent twice, filled up my gas tank six times, and bought groceries abnormally often because I really like cheese. Welcome to adult life.
I’m still not over the whole “adult” thing. I toss the word around like I’m comfortable with what it means and what it says about my current stage of life, but I am still so confused. Or lost, or boggled, or maddened…whatever the right word for what I’m feeling is, that’s what I am.
Here’s my big thing: no one seems to be able to pinpoint what “adult” means. Is it earning money, paying rent, and filling up your gas tank and the pantry? Is it hanging your diploma on your wall? Is it simply not being in college anymore?
Please, someone tell me.
Every now and then, I remember that Samford students move back to Birmingham soon, and I get really excited and incredibly depressed all at once. Excited to have so many of my friends close to me again, depressed because, even though we might be physically close, our realities are almost wholly separate.
Is it considered cruel irony that I can see an old dorm building of mine every time I drive up to work? So close, but no cigar.
I had to chuckle a bit this afternoon when I realized that my parents will be coming to help me move in the rest of my stuff tomorrow, almost four years to the day that they moved me to Birmingham the very first time (Tuesday is the exact anniversary).
I could have sworn that was another lifetime ago. Wasn’t it?
Maybe that’s the whole “adult” thing. Looking back and realizing that, maybe without noticing, you’ve done that whole mess of growing up. And maybe you still have a mess of a way to go, but you’ve somehow made it far enough where you’ve transitioned from kid/adolescent/college student to passable-in-public adult.
And you earn money, pay rent, and fill up your gas tank and your pantry. You hang the diploma on the wall (once it’s framed, thanks Mom and Dad). And you make the transition out of college and into the “real world.”
And, if you’re me, you wake up at 5:30 to run. Because you have to. And you want to.
And I think that’s the point.