I have good news and bad news.
The good news is, I have a place to live next month and for the next five after that.
The bad news is, pretty soon I'm going to have to list moving as a hobby.
The unknown in this round of Craigslist roulette is that I have roommates and a living situation about which I know nothing.
It never worked this way in "Friends."
I have a career that I've now been in for a number of years. I have an established resume. I own a car, and I have a retirement account. I'm an aunt. I have friends with kids. I spend good money on hair appointments and shoes. I graduated from high school more than a decade ago. I have beneficiaries.
And yet, something about living with roommates makes me feel very un-grownup-y. I'm not sure what exactly it is — splitting bills, chore charts (I wish I were kidding), keeping my food on my shelf — but it's not exactly the life I pictured when I was 15 and itching to be an adult. In college, sure, but at 30? *
Fortunately, I don't really consider myself an adult. But sometimes I wish I played the part a little better. How do other people do it? Is there some sort of switch that goes off and people grow up? If so, is there someone I can see who can X-ray that to see if mine's defective?
Maybe I just need to put on a better show. I could start going to art museums and watching documentaries and the History Channel. I could stop wearing sweats every time I go outside unless it's to work or church. I could remove the teddy bear from my bed and stop eating cookie dough.
Meh. Maturity is overrated.
* This, boys and girls, is why you go into a career that pays in money, not in ideals.