Maturity

October 18, 2012

I wish I could say exactly what I thought being a grown-up was going to be like when I was a kid. I know I imagined working in an office. Got that right. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do. Something like what my dad did. But I didn’t exactly know what that was. I didn’t see myself as a secretary, and I got that right, too. Sure, I put in my time as an administrative assistant, but it was a lot more than just typing letters and answering phones. Although there was a lot of that, too. And, to tell you the truth, I don’t know if I can exactly describe what I do do for a living. I go to an office every day, and I coordinate things. I do a lot of detail work.

So, when I was a kid, I had a vision of what being a working person would be like, but that’s about it. I don’t recall thinking about where I’d live or how I’d dress. I didn’t really think about cooking and cleaning. I did think about boys. I was a hopeless romantic. Probably still am. (My two favorite movies are The Princess Bride and Casablanca.)

But then I got to be a grown-up and had to start doing all of these mature things. Like scheduling my own doctor appointments. (I seem to recall calling my mom to tell her she would be very proud of me for scheduling my annual.) Or taking myself to the dentist. (That was always my dad’s job.) Not to mention paying bills and rent. Or seeking out a full-time job so that I could get health insurance even though I really loved my part-time job tutoring at the writing center at the community college. I had dinner with Issa the evening that I signed up for my 403b at work. (We’re non-profit, so we have a 403b plan and not 401k.) I said, “I did something very mature today. I signed up for a retirement plan.” Frankly, the TIAA-CREF rep was quite pleased to see me because I was still in my twenties. I know I never envisioned signing up for a retirement plan when I imagined what it was going to be like when I was grown up.

And today, I did something incredibly mature again. I got a flu shot. If you don’t count the H1N1 vaccine, I’ve only gotten a flu shot one other time. That was last year, and it was because they were offering them when I went in for my annual. I thought that I’d be able to get one the same way this year, but there was no mention of it. (It was clearly the nurse’s first day. It’s possible she forgot, although I could tell she was going through her mental checklist to make sure she’d done everything. Finger poke? Check. Blood pressure? Check. Last period? Check. Fill out the postcard? Check.) And I probably wouldn’t have bothered, except I’m hoping to get pregnant very soon. So even though I don’t actually fall into a target vaccination group right now, maybe I will next month. And I had to go to Walgreens anyway to pick up my Femara prescription. And Walgreens takes my insurance. And gives flu shots. And my insurance covers most preventative care (including flu shots) 100% with no copay.

It turned out to be just this tiny little subcutaneous thing. Felt like the needle hardly went in. I did not, however, get a Band-Aid, but I will forgive the pharmacist that. He probably would have given me one if I’d asked. Oh, and either the student had the day off or he’s moved on. Haven’t seen him since the first day I picked up Femara there.

So, yes, I’m very proud of myself for being so very mature today. And I didn’t even cry. I didn’t look, but I didn’t cry either. You should be very proud of me, too.

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