Really? How Old Am I?

(In order to read this blog, it is a requirement for you to be able to understand sarcasm.)

I was born on August 30, 1982 when the summers were long and pregnant mothers drank. I can prove it. I have a picture of my mother at least seven months pregnant, floating at the beach with a Miller Light in hand. Ask her.

I grew up in Alabama going to private school with all the rich kids of Montgomery (who ended up really being amazing people…well, some). My summers were filled with Red Light, Green Light; Tag (tackle); cards; cold swimming pools and heat lightening. I was lucky enough to have a father who could teach me how to use power tools and fish, uncles who taught me how to hunt and a mother who taught me the only way to fight is by “killing them with kindness”. I never knew you had to pay money for that swimming pool water or to be able to turn on those power tools. Going to work every day doesn’t really mean you get to go play with kids your own age?

Oh I had the teenage years when I started to learn all of these responsibilities and expenses of life. Mom and Dad always raised me knowing that your job is what you do to provide for your family. Hard work pays off in the end in a self-satisfying way if not also financially. I always told mom I wanted to find a job that was a part of my “fun” life. I want to wake up every morning excited about what I get to do that day for a living. They will actually pay me to do what I do? Sweet, sweet mom always put it very nicely when she said, “Only about one percent of the world has a job like that.” Well what are you trying to say mom? I can’t be a part of that one percent?

Well……I’m not sure if I have necessarily found that job. I mean it’s great, but whatever happened to the years of “finding yourself”? I always heard about kids who got to go out west and live some adventurous life while waiting tables. They went on a search for what they were meant to do in life. They got to live a life most people make up or even make movies about. But what my major question is……..Who paid their health insurance?!!!! Mom and Dad? Oh nooooooooo, not for this soul searcher?

Nobody told me being 25 meant not only paying your own health insurance but choosing your own health insurance plan? What the hell? I thought I was better than everybody because I am still single and Mom and Dad would feel sorry for me and continue to pay my “big girl” bills. Instead I find myself choosing plans that allow me to plan ahead for a life of solitude. No I don’t want the family plan, it’s just me. Nope, no dependents. Thank you, but I’m not really interested in being set up with your alcoholic 32 year old brother!!!!!!!!!! He went to college? Really? For one year and had to come home because he had “too much fun”. No, but thanks for thinking of me?

I have never had that urge to get married. Really. I have been to plenty of weddings where I have gotten excited to have that “day”, but not really that whole ordeal. I mean, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it and I would love to be married one day, but I just don’t think of it as necessary right now for me. Well apparently my financial planning for the future does!

As you can tell I am in the middle of having to choose one of the 1,800 health insurance plans out there right now for myself. You would think this “soul searching” job I am living would be able to provide some pretty good benefits, and it does. Just not good insurance. So, while I am out there talking about Health Savings Accounts so that I can have enough money to prepare for future medical needs, all I can think about is how I better choose a plan that will be able to help me provide for myself for the rest of my life alone.

Who knew at age 25 I would be planning for my forever single life, I would have to take a pill every day for acid reflux, I would have to stop driving at night because I can’t see, and I would be going to sleep before 9 pm even on weekends?!!!!!!

I’m really not complaining, just venting over insurance plans. Ya’ll know how much I love my life. You read this blog. Excuse me. It is after 10 pm and I am WAY past my bed time.