The Trouble With Adulting

Yes, I know the word adulting is probably not legitimate but I'm going to use it anyway because I can't think of anything better and I kind of like this new word. I suppose there are lots of definitions out there but I like to think that adulting is doing the right thing whether you want to or not. It's kind of like taking the Boy Scout pledge about being fair, honest, kind and tolerant but leaving that temper on hold.

During the past couple of weeks I've been struggling with this. I even wrote about the relationship I'd reluctantly built with representatives from the phone company. After spending hours before writing those words and more hours after writing you will notice that I am still writing because my phone is still not working correctly. I've hit the wall and want out of my adulting contract. I want to go Tasmanian Devil on these guys. I've never seen him do any permanent cartoon damage to another cartoon critter but he sure could set up a clatter for me.

I'm weary of being polite, understanding and patient but my upbringing will not let me go berserk. During a couple of conversations this week I thought my head might pop off. That would be so cool. Think of the news coverage I'd get. "Geezer Woman's Head Pops Off; Takes Flight." I figure if my head does pop off it will run around the house like a huge balloon when you let the air out of it. I love to do that because it never fails to amuse me. Imagine how much fun my head would have.

If this analogy upsets you, please don't let it. In my version there is no blood and gore and my body will be left here at the computer. After its flight, my head will return and together we will continue being polite, understanding and patient. The phone still won't work but we'll be able to continue adulting for life-changing incidents ahead.

One of those is being given the wrong day for surgery. For the record, I will say that here at Shaffer House, we take surgery seriously. At our ages, there's not a whole lot of time to get things done. If we get a chance at something like a new knee, we want to be there and be part of the action. After all, when you want a new Harley-ridin' knee as badly as Mr. S does you'll do pretty much anything to get it.

My adulting self broke down quietly when I discovered that there was a surgery party and Mr. S wasn't there. This was none of our doing. His response was far sadder. Both of us recovered with the news that we had a new surgery day. Before my energy wore off I quickly rescheduled all the miscellaneous stuff it takes to make something like this happen. Then my tank went empty and I couldn't adult.

Remember when you were young? Your tank rarely or never went empty. You could always find some extra energy stored someplace when you needed it. This is the most difficult part of aging for me. When my tank empties, I can't find reserves so easily. This is the hardest part of adulting. No matter what happens, or how crabby your body might be, you have to keep keeping on. You have to keep adulting even when you don't want to, or even when you feel like you just can't.

On the phone today I actually said, "I'm sorry but I can't do this any more now. Please fix this." Then I hung up. By my calculations, I've spent about 6-8 hours on the phone project so far. Apparently technology does not respond to adulting. However, those same skills helped me build a team of folks who worked hard to reschedule the surgery. Yes, I have thanked them and forgiven the human error factor of this mess. That's the kind of adulting we were taught. We are probably less forgiving when it comes to technology because we don't understand it as well. We were taught the human side of this and I would like to think we have passed that along to our children and that they have passed it along to theirs.

Yes, I know there are a lot of you who would have jumped up and down, hired an attorney, cursed, called the head of the company, written letters, and called television station consumer reps to get a hearing. All I can say is, "God love 'ya." You make the rest of this world go 'round. I'll take you on later.

For now, my tank is empty and I need a nap.

P.S. 4/19/19 The phone is fixed. Mr. S came through surgery like a champ and is asleep in his very own bed with his beloved Grover. Life is good. PVAMC is better. Never give it up over small stuff. xoxo