You Know I’m Only Pretending to Be an Adult, Right?
I’ll bet a lot of you are just pretending, too
My office chair will eventually break. When I spin in circles, it makes a clanking sound that suggests some part of it is about to rebel against my shenanigans and office chair aerobics. I have already reported this to my boss.
She was not surprised to know I’ve been spinning. And as soon as I get around to picking out a new chair, she’ll order it for me.
I used to teach high school English, which is a job that doesn’t require as much maturity as some might think. Now, I have a very grown-up job. I’m Associate Director of the Office of Behavioral Research and Evaluation. Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?
The truth is, I’m pretty responsible. I can “adult” well, most of the time. But I’m only pretending. I think a lot of us are.
I’m not saying that I’m actually a couple of children stacked inside of a trench coat, by the way. I’m just saying that, inside of this 46-year-old body, there is a child running the show most of the time.
And that child likes toys, as one can tell from my office at work. There are very few toys in my cabin, partly because of lack of space. But, mostly, the toys are more necessary at work. You see, that’s where I need frivolity the most. Frivolity grounds me, reminds me that life doesn’t have to be serious and that Professionalism is a facade.
Years ago, the high school where I worked adopted the FISH! Philosophy, which is the idea that people do their job better when they enjoy it, so people should be encouraged to play at work. The administration rolled it out poorly, as they did most initiatives, so it didn’t really stick. But I liked the idea of it — and I could see its truth.
We didn’t need the FISH! Philosophy in the English department. We already made our jobs fun.
But office culture is different, isn’t it? When I first got this job, it was very stressful. I wasn’t management yet — we had a different director, and my now-boss was co-director. The office culture back then was very serious and professional. I kept an emergency skirt and heels in my office in case I had to go to a meeting that had fallen through the calendar cracks (because things were also very disorganized back then).
One of my co-workers is still in the mindset of being Very Professional at all times. But I know the truth — she watches The Office on repeat and loves the movie Napolean Dynamite. There’s an inner child inside of her, just screaming to be let out.
When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell. — Brian W. Aldiss
When I was a teenager, my brother told me to never grow up. “You wouldn’t like it,” he said. I believed him. He was working at a sawmill at the time. Eventually, he got an MBA and a series of incredibly boring jobs. Then he went back to school to get a teaching certificate. Now he teaches cooking and loves it.
Sadly, he wasn’t his usual, fun-loving self at Thanksgiving because he’s going through a divorce. Inner children tend to curl up in the fetal position and hide during times of stress or turmoil.
Yet that’s probably when we need them most. They help us remember who we really are. They believe in things like hope and magic. They believe in having fun. They believe in the power of friendship and laughter.
Next time you’re stressed, buy yourself a toy. Spin in your office chair. Play a ridiculous game. Whatever is causing you stress won’t go away, but you’ll feel better about life. Play helps us remember that life has so many possibilities.
