Compensation

Late yesterday afternoon, after work, as I looked through the kitchen cabinets in hope of finding some dinner inspiration, I helped myself to a coupla three hand fulls of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Pistachios. Oh, joy. There I was, eating dessert before dinner. And I thought, well, it's the smallest compensation for having to be an adult.

You know how it is when you're a kid, and you think adults just live the life of Riley -- eating what you want, when you want, staying up as late as you want, watching whatever movies -- or as much tv -- as you want, no one telling you to do your piano practice or clean your room or take out the garbage or anything else. Making the rules, doing it your own way.

But as adults we know the dirty trick that's played on us: you can't really eat what you want, when you want because first of all you know all this stuff about what's good for you, how much you should weigh, what your blood pressure is like, how well you do or don't digest certain foods, what kind of a mega headache you'd get if you did try having ice cream for dinner. Sure, I can go to bed whenever I want, as long as I'm up by 5 to take care of the dog and make the lunches and generally get things ready for work/school/camp or whatever else is in store for the day which inevitably includes spending more time doing things I have to do instead of things I want to do. In short, by growing up we find out that childhood is really what it's all about.
So I say seek your compensation where ye may. Give yourself a treat, without feeling guilty. Because you're the grown up, that's why. Because paying for insurance, getting routine dental care, doing laundry, cleaning up after the dog, and cooking dinner every night earns you the right to have some fun. And seriously, if you live near a Trader Joe's, look for the pistachios -- you won't be sorry.