My friends and I are always joking and always talking about being an adult and suddenly having to "adult" and do things for ourselves on our own without the help of "professional adults."

Little by little I would start to notice myself becoming more and more independent through high school and the summer afterwards -- bit by bit, piece by piece, becoming a "real person" that had to accomplish things for herself.

But I don't think I entirely understood the idea of being a real life adult until this summer. And, even saying that is a stretch.

This summer I knew I was going to have a summer job, and I knew that I was going to be working my butt off to pay for things and to bring money back to school. I thought I would have one job, maybe weekends off and time to live it up. Not the case.

Nothing hits you harder than being 20 years old and being introduced to the forty hour work week.

My social life requires a lot of attention, and it was a real adult moment when I realized that I was going to have to give up a lot of that attention. It's heartbreaking, really.

Giving up beach days, and parties on a Saturday night has taught me things, I didn't believe to be possible.

You have to work now, and play later. Growing up means taking the responsibility of working to pay for your own things. I didn't expect the great feeling of providing for myself, until I was doing it, and it was happening.

Growing up my parents have always taught me to be a hard worker, and after I was done with that, I could run off and do whatever activity I wished to do. I was taught to do my homework first and then I could watch TV. I hated that rule then, but what a rule that was.

I guess I'm realizing that valuable lesson a little later than they had intended, but it's better late than never.

Thank you to my own "professional adults" for that.

I am growing. I am changing.

One forty hour work week at a time.