Signs of Adulthood

I write this with some trepidation, because I'm fast on my way to becoming a full-fledged adult.

Sign #1: I called my temporary health insurance company -- temporary because I'm no longer in college, yet not enrolled in a full-time job -- to find out whether a claim had been filed on my behalf for a recent check-up. The day before I had received a $246 bill, indicating I had less than 30 days to pay up. The company hadn't gotten anything. So I called the clinic's billing office and asked whether they had sent anything. They hadn't. Two minutes later, I was verifying the insurer's address. I have an addition 30 days to make any payments, giving the insurance company adequate time to process the claim and, I hope, pay up for me.

Sign #2: For the last few weeks, I have wondered whether I actually graduated from college. That probably sounds incredibly stupid. Of course Brady graduated, you're thinking. But I checked this report today, an audit of the classes I've taken and requirements I needed to fulfill. A note in small print at the top of the report indicated I had to contact my honors advisor about possible additional or different requirements. I freaked out, probably began to sweat a little. I e-mailed my advisor, thinking I wouldn't hear back for days. You see, the U of M is this bureaucratic maze and there's no such thing as a quick response. Boy was I wrong. Within 10 minutes, I got an e-mail, saying the paper work had been completed on May 17 and as far as my advisor was concerned, I was done at the U. Wohoo.

Sign #3: My mom and sister sent me this thoughtful care box packed full of goodies. It was a steal -- fill it with anything you can for $8. They sent me an old running shirt (it's actually Ben's, but I stole it so it's mine now), candy (Bit 'O Honey chews, my fave), chewy peanut granola bars (to die for), gum, a candle, an investigative resource book that I had forgotten to bring, and a vase. I felt a little guilty about getting such a nice package. I'm an independent career gal, right? I shouldn't have to rely on such packages from my mom and sis to make my day and make me feel less lonely. Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I can't enjoy being a kid at the same time. If that makes any sense.

Sign #4: My journalistic soul mate and I talked tonight for an hour about our jobs. We've worked together for two years and interned in two newsrooms under the same editor. I miss talking nearly every day about story ideas and acting like watchdogs together, but that's part of growing up. You have to move away from your friends. Growing up is hard to do.