A friend of the family said to me recently, “One of the greatest misdirections in life, is that being an adult will be easier.”
I hosted friends at my house for the first time since I actually finished the living room floor. When a friend of my friend unexpectedly needed a place to spend the night, she stopped at my house to hang out before going home to bed. Let’s call her, B. B is around my age and she is struggling at life. She’s got good friends, a place to live, and a good heart, but otherwise she is lost. She was a little tipsy after a wedding and was very talkative.
First she wanted to look around my house – which was one hundred percent fine. I think it’s wrong if you don’t want to do that. Then, she started asking questions. She asked if my cousin and I were roommates. She asked about my rent. She asked how I decided to get a dog. She was basically asking how I adult.
I responded, of course, that no my cousin does not live with me. Charlie is my roommate. Just me and him. In the house that I own. She could not process how I was living by myself with my dog in a house that I own. I sat there contemplating how much I should share with a stranger. I decided to tell her the truth without going into the intimate details, and I have been thinking about my answers ever since.
How did I end up here?
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