I’m Tired of Not Being an Adult

I’m Tired of Not Being an Adult

Right now I am working at what I believe will be my last “student job” (Student Teaching doesn’t count because I’m not getting paid, but am actually paying for the experience).  Currently, I work in an office where I am the same age as the girl in the office next to me, she however is not a student employee since she graduated from a major that has a more traditional graduation time-line.  One of the tasks I, the indentured servant, have been assigned at work is inventorying the storage room.


As I’m in the middle of consolidating boxes and stacking tupperwares, my co-worker walks in and tells me that we might be moving all our belongings to another location. The reason: they are moving student employees into the area on the other side of  the 7 foot wall that protects all of our valuables (old posters, XXL polos, and a million fishbowls filled with decorative rocks). When I ask why we would need to change storage rooms I am told that it is a “security issue” because the students might scale the wall and take things.

I glance at the mess that surrounds me and ask, “Scale the wall?”

She nods her head seriously.

“So what exactly are you expecting them to take,” I ask in a borderline accusational tone.

“Well, mostly we worry about the food items.” She motions toward a shelf stocked mostly with nearly expired condiments and a giant container of chicken seasoning.

“You think people are going to steal your BBQ sauce?”

“Well, mostly we’re worried because we have soda pop over here.”

So, we might move all of our junk because the ever dishonest students are going to climb over their cubicles and pilfer the left-over Diet Cokes that no one drank at the last employee luncheon.  Heaven knows why I’m even allowed in there.   But who am I to talk, here I am committing what is referred to as “time theft” as I vent on my blog at my work computer. I feel like I’m 18 all over again.

3 thoughts on “I’m Tired of Not Being an Adult

  1. I don’t know about you, but I could down a bottle of BBQ sauce and some diet Coke right now. Maybe I’ll slink on down to that storage room and get to guzzling.

  2. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. Maybe the comments on this blog can act as some sort of petition to make your coworkers/boss realize how dumb they are.

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