on a life lived backward

This morning it occurred to me that I've given about the same amount of thought to the planning of my funeral as to the planning of my wedding. Given, though, that my funeral is inevitable and my wedding is not, maybe this isn't such a bad system.

But backwardsness is a talent of mine, not just in the funeral-planning department.

Any day now I'm sure I'll find the perfect master's program to complete before I finish the ever-elusive bachelor's.

This week I had an e-mail exchange with a co-worker whom I'd addressed as "Mr." that highlighted a new backwardsness.

Him:

Emily, I am old. Really quite old. In fact I was born a long long long time ago. I am an adult. I'm entitled to vote, even do. I don't get any discounts on my movie ticket. Have to pay the adult price for a ski lift ticket. In fact my bones are starting to ache a bit in the mornings. Yup, I'm very very old.

HOWEVER........I am not old enough that I expect other adults to call me Mr. You are an adult. Bummer isn't it? Being old I mean. No more watching cartoons and wasting the day away. Gotta earn a living...be responsible...wear clean socks. Tis tough being an adult. BUT since you are an adult and since I'm not that flippin ancient, my name is 'Del'.

Me:

I will live henceforth in appreciation of your admonition. Please accept my faux pas as the work of many years of homeschooling and a largely Southern genetic heritage. But yeah, it is funny that I left the law office world where the boss was "Jeff," opposing counsel was "Natalie," and the CEO client was "Ed," only to revert to the more juvenile titular traditions of yesteryear.