First things first.
I went for a run yesterday during the heat of the afternoon. I am really and truly in the contemplation stage of becoming a morning person, and even though it seems really self-explanatory, I’m having a difficult time getting to bed at a reasonable time, and when I do wake up early, I feel like I want to stab everyone at least for the first 20 minutes of me being up. I don’t know if there are like some tricks and trips for me to start becoming a morning person. If I could honestly do something that would allow me to sleep less, I would do that. But that’s not really a thing, is it.
I managed to shuffle my way over to greenway (yay tax dollars!) and ran in the shade for a while before shuffling back to work, completely drenched.
I still don’t know if it’s enough for me to start being a morning person, but I’m willing to contemplate it.
Do you guys ever feel like you’re just playacting at adulthood?
I do. I still do. And I’m not sure at what point I’ll start feeling like a “real” adult. I’m married, I have a house, I am gainfully employed and can freely move about the cabin that is life, and still, I feel like a kid.
That became the most apparent to me when, last week, I was asked to be on a panel for girls at a boarding school here in Raleigh, as the resident “women in fitness/wellness” person. At first, I wanted to say no because I don’t feel like I’m in any position to be paneling about anything. As we speak, I’m wearing the minimum amount of makeup to make my face passable, and thinking about the over under on whether I can sneak a nap in tonight and still fall asleep at the normal time once my husband gets home.
Am I the kind of person you really want to be talking to your girls?
When I spoke to one of the administrators at the school, she seemed so excited to have me and told me that the girls would love me.
Whatever you say boss.
I’m not sure at what point I will start feeling serious. Maybe it will be if or when I have kids. Maybe it will be when I don’t feel like I have to clean my house like a demon when I know people are coming over. Maybe it will be when I don’t consider candy and salads to be equally important food groups to my mental health. Maybe it will be when I don’t accidentally say “shit” in front of my boss’s boss because I dropped my work-issued laptop on its head. I’m not sure.
At what point will I start feeling like a real adult?
At what point did you?