Last weekend, Liz (who is Cazey and my other roommate and will one day be featured in a blog post, "Living with Liz") and I had a very adult day. In the morning, we toured two units that we're looking to buy. Okay fine -- we're not looking to buy it, her parents are, but we're the feet on the street to go see the apartments as they open. Then in the afternoon we went car shopping. That was for me. One day I'll buy a new car. Poor Taurus is getting on in years.

Anyways, I went into work that Monday and reported to everyone at work how adult I was. You know, because I went shopping for big purchases. Then I came home and was telling Liz about how I told everyone about our weekend, which she also did. And we had a realization:

We must not be THAT adult if we report to people how adult we acted that weekend.