The other day I was in my old room at my parents house with some of my family, packing stuff to go home, when the bag of graduation stuff up there on the shelf fell off and I went for a stroll down memory lane.
This bag is what I once called "the bragging bag", seeing as how it contains all those physical representations of hundreds of hours of work in High School. There was my diploma, the big plaque they gave me for being an Outstanding Senior, my cap, my tassel, two sets of cords and a medallion. I like that bag.
A strange thing happened, though. I suddenly couldn't remember for the life of me what those cords were for. I still have no clue. At that point, James informed me that forgetting that detail means that I am now officially an adult, well and truly out of high school.
Hmm. That's a new thought. I thought. And then I looked at my yearbooks and couldn't remember which one was which year at all, and that apparently cements it. I am a grown up now, I guess.
Further evidence: (this is kind of scary)
1. I am moving 2500 miles away and I didn't ask anybody's permission.
2. I think in thousands instead of hundreds.
3. I pay car insurance, instead of paying my parents for car insurance.
4. Within my family, I have transitioned to the opposite end of the driving scale, to wit: instead of deciding who is picking Amy up and bringing her home for the weekend, I am now a viable candidate for "who is picking Matthew/ daddy up?"
Evidence schmevidence. I still don't believe it.