I am tired of adulting. I didn’t mind it for awhile. Kind of got into it when I could make the rules and people actually followed them. But now I’m over it and can’t seem to resign. Much like the auto reply message, yeah don’t. It was quite convenient a few years back when you could be off the grid a bit, but alas, just doesn’t work anymore. You are always on call whether you want to be or not. Have you ever texted someone and imagine them reading it but not replying? Even if they’re not, you know they are so what’s the point of the exercise? (Yes that made total sense.) Adulting is like that. You do know best. Even if you don’t. You are in charge. Even if you’re not. See what I’m saying here? Me either. (I do). Which brings me to the Grande Dame of churches and her horrific fire. Our Lady was the grandest and kept her beauty by constant maintenance. She survived wars and bombings and the elements for over eight hundred years, but it didn’t come easy. She was constantly surrounded by scaffolding which marred her luster. Similar to driving in a construction zone on the highway, I feel like I’d rather just enjoy the bumpity old girl because I’ll never see the shiny new wrinkleless one. Guess that is what adulting is all about. Acceptance of things. Or not.