Just When You Think You Are Out...
A WAHM Liveblog of the Past 15 Minutes

How to Adult Like a Boss

Yesterday, I got up early, got dressed (as in actual clothing, not workout clothing) (haaaaaaa "workout"), did mah hairs and face, and drove to an office. The office? My office? I still don't know what to call it. I've been consulting for this company for well over a year now but have shown up live and in person maybe a dozen times, if that. I still have to retrieve a restroom key from the reception area, and I still get kind of a sweaty panic about using it because the lock is jacked, and although I think I've figured out the right amount of twist-jiggling required to open the stupid door, it still takes me a full minute to re-learn the trick and it's a terribly stressful minute that I spend terrified that I will 1) pee myself or 2) be seen by another human being while looking like an idiot who CAN'T OPEN A DOOR. 

In other words, I don't think I've earned the right to call it "my" office yet. I am still a telecommuting part-time interloper, a person who half of the employees there don't even know, or don't recognize that I'm that asshole who bugs them about their blog post topic deadlines 40 fricking million times a month, GOD GURL, SLOW YOUR ROLL, I'M BUSY. 

So anyway, I showed up yesterday for the biweekly in-person meeting, as per usual, only to learn that oh, it was canceled. A bunch of people were away at a conference, a conference that was discussed at the prior week's biweekly phone meeting, but...uh. I guess I wasn't maybe listening closely enough. (IT WAS STILL ON THE CALENDAR. I DON'T OVERRIDE THE CALENDAR WITH VAGUE MEMORIES OF PEOPLE SAYING SHIT TO ME. THAT WAY LIES MADNESS; ME MISSING THINGS.)

"It's okay," I told myself. "I'm still allowed to be here. Nobody knows that I showed up completely unnecessarily. I am a business-y professional person who is going to sit here and get today's work done in a clean, non-poop-and-index-card covered office and I'm going to be efficient as fuck."

"I am also," myself continued, "going to stay here even if I have to pee, even though I could totally just leave and go somewhere with a less intimidating bathroom door."



I should probably take a second to remind the audience that I 1) am 35 damn years old, 2) have been blogging for nearly 10 years now and 3) am still at a point in my life where successfully managing to get to a bathroom is considered a momentous, bloggable plot point.





I am 42, and if I blogged, that would still be a bloggable topic for me.


Thank you for this. You got me with the title. I'm 45, a mother of a four year-old, a primarily telecommunity marketing executive and find myself triumphing over mundane details like this when I have to "show up." I refer to myself as "adult-challenged" because I still feel like a psuedo-adult. But that's probably my fault, given that I'm not on board to completely join their game.


OMG girl...you rocked it. :) My husband, by the way, just so happens to be at that conference that you speak of. I. WANT. HIM. HOME...NOW. ;)


Your situation sounds so perfect to me, even though i've come to realize there is probably no perfect when it comes to being a mom who still wants to work (but only kind of a little bit). Some days when i have to work i really just want to stay home with maaaah baaaayba and some days when i get to stay home with him i just need some adult interaction please


your blog points are always so comical! and i know what you mean about the panic. tho mine usually happens on the INSIDE of a bathroom. gaaahhhhh


I have a client with that same irritating bathroom-lock problem. I've been going there four times a year for SEVEN YEARS and I still can't get it right. I did learn, however, that the front desk key is a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy and everyone has trouble with it. I now borrow a better key from someone I know there and use that and have fewer issues. (Not no issues, just FEWER issues. But I'll take it.)


I've been teaching for 25 years in the same school and I am still scared to use the faculty bathroom.


Where do you work where they have to lock the bathrooms? A gas station? I don't get it.

Suzy Q

I am completely convinced that at least 50% of the working population, myself included, feels like an imposter. I participate in professional meetings, interview people with way higher education levels than me, and sometimes tell giant corporations what to do. All that in addition to giving away large sums of money (not mine). WHO AM I.


And what a plot point it is. One of your gifts as a writer is that you can take the utterly mundane and still make it entertaining. Thank you for the chuckle.


Wow -- 35 already? I remember when you were just turning 30!


I don't know if this will help you with your bathroom key issue, but my house key was a stupid bitch for a while--I could hardly EVER get that damn thing to work. Finally, I realized that jiggling the key VERTICALLY (and only vertically) was the magical solution. Works every time. Good luck!

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