There are a lot of advantages to being an adult. The other morning, I had cookies and three cups of coffee for breakfast. Was this a smart choice? No. Did it adequately nourish me for my day? Noooo! Did I feel sick later? Oddly enough, no. Did anyone yell at me and tell me to eat something healthy? No. That right there is the beauty of being an adult. I get to make my own choices. Good, bad or ugly the choice is mine. It also means that I have to live with the consequences of my choices, but I’ve been pretty fortunate in that I’ve either made good choices or, not suffered too terribly from my bad choices. I enjoy this aspect of being an adult. The paying bills and holding down a steady job, I could do without. It’s not horrible, but I’m not gonna turn down several million dollars to get out of that rat race if someone’s offering. The part of being an adult that I hate, is the moment when you realize that the shit has hit the fan and it is your job to clean it up. You are the one in charge, you are the one that everybody is looking to, and no one cares that all you want to do is curl up on the couch and binge-watch Criminal Minds. I expect parents feel like this all the time, which is one of the reasons that I do not have children. I have dogs instead, yet I find myself in that position right now. My baby boy just had surgery, and I’m facing down the barrel of six months of recovery time. He’s my baby, and I’d do anything for him – hence the surgery – but at the moment I’m feeling a little over-whelmed. I am the adult, yet I find myself looking for an adultier-adult.