Still Pretending (To Be An Adult)

There is so much I want to be when I grow up. Carmen SanDiego has led the race for a while. At this point, I only need the hat, trench coat, and Interpol file.

Not so far from 30, I still feel like I’m playacting at being an adult, and even that is only when we have guests. Then, I’ll cook, and clean the house, and put away my piles of junk that I otherwise rarely touch, and stock real food, as opposed to lazy food.

But I’ve signed up to twist my brain. There’s a trip approaching. With a group of high schoolers. My husband has to go because of work. I volunteered to go for more selfish reasons (and I can almost guarantee it’s not what you’re thinking).

I’m going because I love this theater department. I adore the staff and love what it gives the kids. As a recovering thespian, it’s an awesome thing for kids to get involved with. I’m going because I had to work the weekend of state competition last year and wished I could have gone. And, yes, I’m also going because my husband will be there and I don’t want to spend those days home alone.

But he’ll be working, and because this is a school trip, I’ll actually be rooming with another volunteer instead of him.

And my probably roommate? A high school friend. We roomed together on theater trips back then, too.

See my dilemma? A total nostalgia trip while chaperoning a group of teens. This will be a serious test of my pretensions to adulthood.

But my other major reason for going is research. You see, there’s this story idea . . .

As I said, my reasons are purely selfish. I just can’t tell if I gain or lose Adult Points on that one.

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