I am an adult!

So, I’m an adult, right?

I mean, I have conversations with people about how many pieces of frozen boneless skinless chicken breasts are in a package compared to what you paid for said package. I own a house—or at least a townhouse. I have sucessfully purchased and paid off one car.

I have a job and people seem to think I know what I’m doing. My boss said “people were watching me—in a good way” in my performance review. (I’ve discovered that this is the secret all “grown-ups” like to keep to themselves: no one really knows what he/she is doing. We’re all just working through the problems and trying a lot of solutions.) Anyway, I have a job. With coworkers. Who treat me like an adult, ask my advice, call me into meetings to offer ideas because they mistakenly think I have something to the conversation. This is a vast improvement over previous jobs/internships in which coworkers treated me like their daughter and were quick to offer advice on how to do my work, whom to date, and you know, whatever else might come along.

All this rambling is meant to prove one thing: that I am indeed an adult.

So, in walked yesterday, in which I learned a little about humility. Because it’s no fun to be a so-called adult and throw up at work.

Yep, throw up. At. Work.

It was gloriously embarrassing and humbling in a humiliation kind of way. At least no one else was in the bathroom at that moment. Except for the coworker who walked in, asked if I was OK (um, no, I wasn’t), then left and didn’t come back. Or send anyone. Gee, thanks. WHAT IF I’D DIED?!

But, happily for you (or maybe not, I don’t know!), I survived. I went home, laid in bed for several hours, ate some soup, slept some more, worked on some work I’d brought home with me (yes, I really did. How pitiful is that?), and watched randomly bad daytime TV.

I’m alive and kicking today. Aren’t you thrilled?


9 thoughts on “I am an adult!”

  1. that happened to me one time. i had gone the night before to a baseball game where the company rented out the pavillion behind left field. i must have had some bad hamburgers, because i threw up at home, and i thought that was the end of it. nope. sitting at my desk all of a sudden i had to go, and i remember on my way to the bathroom (i made it just barely!) a coworker saw me in the hall and asked if i was okay. i couldn’t open my mouth at that point and went back later and apologized for not saying anything. yuck.

  2. I seriously have daydreams that things like that will happen. I imagine the absolute worse thing that could happen. It’s sort of like deja vu except that it doesn’t really happen. If feels like it should.

    It’s like I’m writing a Choose Your Own Adventure novel about my life.

  3. My boss would have sent me home as soon as news of me throwing up made it to her. She freaks out about germs! And I’m glad you feel better! Did the Mexican lasagna cure you?

  4. The Mexican lasagna definitely helped. Though it wasn’t very spicy. There’s still more to eat. . . . that’s the problem with casseroles and single people.

  5. I am thrilled that you did not die in the bathroom! As for hurling at work – I didn’t expereince this until my first pregnancy. Throwing up at work became part of my daily routine. YUCK.

  6. That’s no fun, Crystal.
    And I do want it to be known that while I did dub it the “Monday Morning Sickness,” I am not preggo.


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