This Is What It Means To Be An Adult

I knew today was going to be busy. Up at 4am to catch an early morning flight home for my step-grandfather's funeral, most of which I would miss in an effort to get back on a plane to Chicago for my event tonight. Our very first singles event that sold out. Not something that could be rescheduled with such short notice. And after much deliberation, I just felt that I could not miss my event. It was too big of a deal for me to be absent. Of course, the same goes for the funeral.

Therefore, I decided to fly in for the visitation before the funeral. Flight availability meant I would either miss the funeral, or miss my event. There was no way around it. I had made my peace, somewhat, with the fact that I would miss the funeral. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I would still get to see my family, hug those I needed to hug, and pay my respects before flying back to take care of my company.

Except I missed my flight this morning. By about 10 seconds. As I'm running towards the gate (at the very end of the terminal, of course) I see the gate attendant coming out of the jetbridge and the door slamming behind him. He says, unequivocally, "The plane is locked down. You cannot get on." Begging him doesn't make him budge, nor does it bring out even a shred of empathy.

It's not like I overslept. It's not like I was running late. I just misjudged how much time I needed. I gave myself no buffer. So when the security line looked like it does on Thanksgiving, and I was halfway to the gate when I realized I left my bag back at security, it was over. And there's no one to blame but myself. This is what it means to be an adult.

In all the planning that went into this day - the flights, the car service, the arranging of rides, last minute details for tonight - I kept thinking, "Well, this is what it means to be an adult. You have to juggle many things all at once and just make them all happen." I tried to do it all. I really did.

The other day, my friend remarked that it seemed like a lot for one day, and should I perhaps consider missing my event? I said without hesitation: "Work comes first." Now it appears that the universe heard me loud and clear, and gave me what I said I wanted.

Except I'm sick about it. While this is entirely my fault, I do believe that everything happens for a reason. I'm trying to focus on that. Trying to ignore the should've would've could'ves that are peppering my brain. I'm not sure how you juggle work obligations and family obligations. I guess sometimes you are able to do it pretty well, and other times the balls drop.

So this is what it means to be an adult:
*You make mistakes. Sometimes they're really big ones.
*You're in charge of keeping your animals alive, healthy, and safe.
*You pay your bills.
*You keep your home clean.
*You still worry that you'll disappoint your parents, but you do your best anyway.
*You can jump on your bed if you want. You probably don't, but you could.
*You have to keep going, especially after disappointment. There simply is no other alternative.
*You realize that life isn't fair, but you are still blessed beyond what you even know.
*You can eat Nutella out of the jar. Not that I ever have.