January 23, 2009
Now that I'm a firm 28 years old, and decidedly past my quarter-life crisis, there are so many things that I completely love about being a grown-up.
For example, one of my closest childhood friends is a dentist right here in Maine. She and her also-a-dentist husband own their own practice and bring home approximately four gazillion dollars a month. They live in an enormous old house with secret rooms and maids'-quarters, and honestly, it's nothing short of radical.
Trust me, there are some raging games of hide n' seek going on in that house--after the kids are sleeping, of course. Now don't you worry about the children feeling left out--they're not coordinated enough to wear the moon shoes anyway.
Much like me, this friend absolutely stinks at managing the responsibility of a cell phone--drops it, kicks it, accidentally wipes with it--you know, the works. So it's almost impossible to get hold of one another--which stinks when you all of the sudden come up with the best idea in the history world.
And last week I did.
So I said, "Screw the cell phone! I'm a grown-up! I'm calling Meghan at work!"
This is how it went down...
RECEPTIONIST: Hello! This is the dentist office! Can I help you?
ME: Yes. This is Amy calling from Dr. Lawson's office. I need to speak with Dr. Baker and it's urgent.
RECEPTIONIST: I'm sorry but Dr. Baker is with a patient, can I take a message?
ME: I said it was urgent.
RECEPTIONIST: Can I put you through to the office manager?
ME: (in an exasperated tone) Fiiiiiine.
So the office manager, who also happens to be Dr. Baker's brother, picks up the line...
OFFICE MANAGER: Hello! This is Brandon!
ME: Bran, it's Amy, your receptionist sucks. I seriously need to talk to your sister right now. Are you dating anyone yet?
OFFICE MANAGER: No, not dating anyone. Hold on.
And then I finally, finally got to speak with the woman in charge...
MEGHAN: Hello, this is Dr. Baker.
ME: Go stand in your supply closet.
MEGHAN: Okay, I'm in.
ME: What's up biiiiiiitch?!
MEGHAN: Oh, not much. You know, doing a root canal biiiiiitch!
ME: So I had this idea. You should come to my house this weekend and pay for my lunch.
MEGHAN: Only if we can take the kids to WalMart and get their pictures taken with the most hideous backgrounds ever.
ME: Only if we leave food on their faces and dress 'em up ugly and make sure they're completely overtired.
Told you it was important.
Things like this make me love being a full fledged grown-up. Back when I was still 23, still struggling with who I was and what I wanted to do with my life, I never would have dreamed of steppeing out of a meeting to text my husband that: WE NEED OLIVES FROM THE STORE. U R HOT. But now that I'm an adult there's simply no question--when you need pizza toppings, you need pizza toppings...even if it is during the middle of an Executive Committee meeting.
I'm no longer intimidated by adults--turns out they're all just as broke and amused by potty humor as I am.
And if they're not? I'll just call them at the office and make fun of 'em for it.
I love being a grown-up.