I Don't Wanna Grow Up

I've been thinking about what it means to be an adult lately (and not just because I had a birthday recently). A few weeks ago I was embroiled in a situation that required me to make a very difficult decision in a relatively short amount of time. It was hands down the hardest thing I've had to decide in a long time, and right up until the end there was no clear path. Adding to my woes, once I made the decision there were instant repercussions, which I wasn't expecting.

It's an experience I don't care to repeat any time soon, but at the end of it, I couldn't help but feel that I climbed another rung on the ladder of adulthood, and that provided an almost bizarre feeling of contentment and accomplishment.

But it wasn't until last week whilst dressing for work that I truly felt like I had arrived as an adult.

As a younger man, I used to marvel at men who would wear long pants all day, even during the most brutal of summers. I could never for the life of me figure out why anyone would do that to themselves, and reasoned that that's what you have to do once you're a proper grown up, and decided that henceforth I wouldn't have to wear long pants during summer. Ever.

Then, last week, as I started getting dressed for work, and the mercury pushed past 30 degrees, I pulled on my favourite pair of jeans and thought "Wow. I've finally made it".