adulthood

Let's review a few things, shall we:

I am over 30 years old. (31, to be exact.)

I have been gainfully employed in a full-time capacity for the better part of 10 years.

I have been married for more than five years.

I own a home.

Inside said home, I have a fire safe. (About which, incidentally, I have a pretty funny story that I will summarize briefly: We accidentally locked our passports inside the safe 24 hours before leaving for Puerto Rico. Panic ensued. A locksmith was called. Passports were recovered. A sum totaling more than $100 was paid to the locksmith. All this, and we discovered that we didn't actually NEED the passports to go to Puerto Rico in the first place. Oh well.)

I now very rarely eat Top Ramen.

And today, I officially selected a pediatrician for my as-yet-unborn son.

Yep, all evidence points to the scary fact that I am technically and in all other ways an ADULT.

Which is weird, because I feel pretty much the same as I did when I was in college.

The responsibility is a bit staggering to contemplate. So I suppose I won't contemplate it any more tonight. I think I'll wrap this up and go downstairs for some Ovaltine.