When Did I Become A Grown Up?

Being a grown up creeps up on you.

One year you’re living payday to payday, enjoying each day as it comes, the next you’re considering whether you should write a will.

There’s nothing wrong with being a grown up, but I’ve started to do things I didn’t thing I’d do for at least another 10 years.

I have quite the selection of thermals. I wouldn’t want to ‘catch my death’ now would I? I’m not sure when they found their way into my wardrobe and I’ve started suggesting that others get them too. Not a bad idea considering last night’s 2am post bar walk from Shoreditch to Angel in iceberg conditions. I was wearing thermal tights, so I am clearly living my best life.

I have started paying attention to life insurance and will writing adverts because, who knows what is on the horizon? Are ads targeted? Maybe ‘they’ are noticing that I am an adult and are shoving the ads in my face!

Going out for dinner is sometimes more appealing than going ‘out out’, and I’m quite happy to ‘give feedback’ if the service is not what it should be. It’s best that they know so that they can improve for the future right?

I got a work pension. Nuff said.

I am excited by a trip to IKEA. I mean, really excited. Then I return home with a pot plant and a new chopping board while I ponder about if that wall unit I saw is good value for money.

Celebrating the 30th birthdays of both my younger siblings was a major turning point. It’s harder to let people assume I’m in my twenties and care free when I’m with them. Mainly because I’m introduced as ‘this is my big sister’, so if they can count, the gig is up.

So, I don’t know quite when I became a grown up, but I’m going to embrace my grownupness, thermals and all, but keep it sprinkled with some non grown up things.

Like the time a few friends and I went to laserquest as part of my 33rd birthday weekend.

Everyone else there was about 12.

It was fun so, who cares?

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