At work, we’re in the process of updating the company website. Which is good, since besides job postings, it hasn’t been changed in the almost 4 years I’ve been there. The “about us” section had just my 3 bosses on it. Apparently one of the changes is that we’ll ALL be on it. There’s only about 15 of us total, between 2 offices, so it’s not like an epic listing of a billion people.
Anyway, one of my bosses sent an email to all of us, asking what our title is (what’s on our business cards), as that will be put on the website. My current title is (without getting TOO specific) is ____ _____ Specialist. That’s already fancy for me, as I’ve previously only ever been an “Assistant” or “Coordinator”. Truth be told, I got to choose my title, so I made sure it didn’t involve either of those words.
So bossman comes up to me and says “Hey, got your email with your title, thanks. Just so you know, we’re going to add another title on the website, since you do so many different things. We want to make sure people know all that you do.”
So my title #2??? Is going to be SENIOR _______, _______ ______.
I have not been a Senior anything EVER. Except for being a Senior in High School and College, of course.
But yeah, I’m going to be a Senior blah-blah-blah. That’s HUGE to me. It’d be even more awesome if a boost in pay came along with that, but eh…I’m not stressing over it. I get commission off of some of the stuff that I do, so I guess I’ve just gotta continue my hustle.
The fact that I’m a Senior blah-blah-blah is also freaking me out a little bit. It means that I’m somewhat IMPORTANT. I guess in a way, it means that I’m doing something right.
But it means that…there’s no escaping it…I’m a BONAFIDE GROWN-UP.
Seriously. I am 36, going on 12, but yet I’m a grown-up. I wear jeans to work everyday and carry my crap to work in a Hello Kitty totebag. One of my bosses made fun of me today because I had my lunch in a pink lunch bag and my strawberries were in a pink container (which is also Hello Kitty). I have ridiculous, fangirly crushes on emo band members. I watch trashy TV. I have decidedly bad taste in a lot of things, and I’m kind of a dippity-do.
But I guess that’s SENIOR Dippity-Do.
I’m a grown-up, an adult. And it’s making me twitchy. Is 36 too early for a mid-life crisis?