I often wonder when I became an "adult"-- when I turned 18, or 21, or when I suffered tragedy or got my first job or got married or had a baby? Or the first time I tried to fight the system, namely Shell Energy, and had to write that angry check to "Assholes at Shell" for "extortion, blackmail, and assault" to avoid having my credit dinged?
Or was it today, when I bought a bag of decorative potpourri and dusted my banister for the first time?
I can't believe I bought potpourri.
Even if it was on sale for $3.24, down from $13.98. And had funny cork flowers and goofy curlicues. And was then placed ceremoniously in the plaster cast of my pregnant belly as a centerpiece.
Fu*kin' potpourri, dude.