Becoming an Adult

I recently became an adult. Proof of this lies in the fact that I have been thinking about clam chowder. In a bread boule. Uh-huh.

Everyone knows that clam chowder is only for adults. If you aren’t an adult, you won’t like it—you will never even think about eating it. Clam chowder is clearly adult territory.

I have anticipated this day for a long time. Back when I turned thirty—a milestone when some people, who hadn’t yet entered this state, became adults—nothing changed. I got up in the morning, as usual. I logged into Facebook and caught up on things that were important to me then. I rolled the red Cap’n Crunch Berries off to the side (for last) in my morning bowl of cereal. I didn’t forget anything—although in my now-enlightened adult state-of-mind, I realize I wouldn’t have known anyway. By definition.

I really like being an adult. I am complimented, rather than insulted, when I get carded. Society is a better place for not allowing kids to buy spray paint—having developed into an adult from adolescence, I can clearly see this logic now. It just makes sense to us adults.

I don’t eat Cap’n Crunch Berries anymore. The Sparkleberries in the big plastic bags are cheaper. I don’t use Facebook, either, although I insist on having it open in another tab at all times. Adults set clear boundaries for themselves. I deleted my Google Plus profile and set up a Twitter account. Twitter is much more mature than either Google or Facebook. I made email folders to sort my email fastidiously. Because adults are busier than other people, I often find myself dumping all email into a single folder because I have to run. Not running, as in running, but running, as in getting to the next appointment as quickly as possible. All adults have appointments. I’m usually early and I really don’t have that many appointments, but I expect things to change very soon. In anticipation of this advanced stage of life, cell phone dialogues with myself now abruptly end with, “Yep, yep, gotta go now, I gotta run, yep yep.” For some reason, few people realize that I have now become an adult, but I am taking measures to address this fundamental component of adulthood.

I don’t work in IT anymore. My career involves recommending, implementing, securing, maintaining, and monitoring applications, policies, procedures, and practices for compliance with industry and regulatory mandates, and providing for accessibility and structural and referential integrity of information across an increasingly diverse set of interfaces, governing architectures, user environments, and hardware platforms. I assist corporate and government entities in establishing and improving their identity ecosystem governance infrastructures, with emphasis placed on feasibility, integrity, and timeliness of permissions, distinct platforms, and risk analysis. Immature people still call it IT, but, as adults, you and I know it’s much more sophisticated than that.

Being an adult means that I can make my own decisions. When adults set their mind to something, it gets done. When I’m at the gym I now have the joy of walking around the track and calling it a good workout. I don’t have to fix my bike tire just because it’s flat. Incredible freedom is mine.

Becoming an adult is the best thing that happened to me in a long time. Adults really do have it good. They get all the respect when things go right and all the blame when things go wrong. I just love responsibility. Uh-oh, I started thinking about clam chowder again. Yep, yep, gotta go, I gotta run…