If you asked me to assign it a percentage I’d say that 75% of the time I have no idea what I’m doing with my life.  I have a small c career, some hobbies on the side, and what people who live below 14th Street would consider an apartment, but when it comes to the check list of mature adult life (401K, stable relationship, ability to pump gas) I’m a late-if-at-all bloomer.

As I mentioned, I spent the weekend talking college students through the process of becoming a writer – a process I have by no means mastered, but have developed some sense of over the years. If the process were, say, a hard-boiled egg I would say that at t his point I’ve rolled it around on the table so the shell is all cracked and have now removed 40 — maybe 50% of the little shell pieces and weird skin layer (look Dad! a food metaphor!).

The weekend was a success in many ways. I didn’t crash the mini van. I didn’t hit on any of the boys. And when it was over the kids included me in the group picture and said they were going to start a Facebook group for BC students who want to become writers. If that isn’t an indication of success then I don’t know what is…

But the greatest discovery to come out of my time in the woods of Camp Bemet is that sharing the details of your seemingly disorganized, not-quite-there-yet adult life with a group of college kids will actually make you feel like you have a legit adult life.

You take a group of kids who have little to no sense of what comes next and tell them about your job as an assistant to some CEO and they will hang on your every word. Throw in a couple “Devil Wear’s Prada”-style work nightmares and they’re putty in your hands. Tell one joke about the fact that your current apartment is smaller than your sophomore year dorm and they’ll laugh as if that was a joke.