on being an adult. kind of.

Freddie was gone for the weekend which meant I was on my own for the first time in this new big, bad city of Houston. H-ton. Houst. The Houst <<<this is me still working on and failing a Class A nickname for Houston.

 I told myself, "Self, you will get off of the couch and do things because you are an adult, for goodness sake. Go forth and do adult things!"

Let me tell you what. I did what any woman should do and I washed my freaking makeup brushes for the first time, uh ever. No really, go do it now. I've never felt more adult in my life than when I was washing them and thinking Ewww, that was on my face? and No wonder my face has been so full of zits lately... and How did it get so dirty?! Do I wear that much makeup?!

All I'm saying is, you should be embarrassed to be my blog friend because of how dirty my makeup brushes were. Have no fear though! They are now clean, and maybe in a week's time my face will be shiny and clear and clean (yeah, right. I'm not that adult yet). 

Hmm, let's see. What are some other adult things one should do when one's husband is gone and one finds herself in a new city? Oh yes! Do not explore. Definitely not. Want to know why? Because said new city has been flooding a lot and husband left on a weekend when more flooding happened. So don't explore (unless you want to explore Target because I definitely was there exploring twice this weekend). 

I cleaned. I cooked. I read. I read by the pool. I practiced my Pilates. I studied my Pilates. I did my running. I read by the pool again. I got groceries. I read again. I washed dishes. I ate Ben & Jerry's. 

So much time to read when you don't have a full-time job! Shocking. 

And then, right in the middle of my adult-ing, there was the worst thunderstorm I have ever seen. Ever. You know the pictures of insane, ridiculous looking lightning strikes you see in textbooks, and you think Holy crap, that's not even real. Guess what? It is real and it was all happening outside my window on Saturday night. Insane, ridiculous lightning strikes and the world's loudest thunder. This all equaled Adult Emily crumbling into Tiny, Helpless Emily hiding under a blanket on the couch. 

I am just as terrified, if not more, of thunderstorms as I was when I was 5, 10, 15, and 20, etc. You get the picture. THUNDERSTORMS ARE SCARY. My adult solution was to blast the TV and scream a loud AHHHHH or NOOOO every time I knew a thunder blast was coming. 

...

Maybe I'll try the adult thing in a few more years. When I can look thunderstorms in the eye and say, Pooh-Pooh. Until then I will bask in the glow of my face caused by my newly clean and wonderful makeup brushes.