To ‘adult’ is to behave like an adult, specifically to do the things—often mundane—that an adult is expected to do.
I have had to do way too much adulting this past week. I’m sure most of you can relate.
First, I managed to blow out the fuse turning the dial on my air conditioner the wrong way. It was at 8:55 pm when this happened, so when the after-hours super called back he told Andrew and me where our fuse box was, and that we could buy new fuses from Dollarama for “like a dollar”. For starters, he was super rude, sorry this is only our second place and we’ve only dealt with circuit breakers. This is why I get so much anxiety making phone calls, being an adult is hard. Of course, guess what time Dollarama and the nearest hardware store closed at? 9. So Andrew and had to go to a Home Depot further away and buy new fuses – $7.38 for every two bulb things before tax. They did not cost, “like a dollar”. So like any good adult would do after such a stressful night, we promptly walked over to the McDonald’s and bought a late night snack and breakfast for the next day. It’s stressful living paycheck to paycheck so we should treat ourselves, right? That’ll make everything easier on us, right? Sure…
Fast forward to this morning, I woke up and went to have my morning tinkle like a lady and grunted like a man when I stepped in a puddle of water. The pipe under the sink was dripping, like constantly. I put towels on the floor and a big bowl under the drip and had to empty it every half hour; being an adult is hard. I was too exhausted to do anything else until Andrew woke up all by himself – yeah right – to figure out a solution. He said to call the building office. No, I do not want to call another cranky person. After pouting for five minutes I called and they said they’d send someone up as soon as possible. Then I got a gift from the universe, this super was really nice and fixed the problem for me. Thank you! Can I go back to bed now?
Holy crap what was that sound?! Oh, mail. Yay. I swear my heart skips a beat every time I get mail through the slot in my door, it’s so loud. Although I’m not complaining about getting junk mail delivered right to my door. Oh, wait, real mail. Internet bill! Just what I needed. Being an adult is hard. Now time to spend the next 10 minutes discussing with Andrew who will cover this so the other can cover phone bills and groceries so the other will cover rent so the other will cover hydro and now I’m lost. Time to write this down and then lose the sheet of paper that made all our finances make sense. Ugh, wish I could afford some booze.
I’m turning 20 this month, so I will no longer be a teenager. I spent the entirety of my teens wishing I was older than I was, I’m getting that feeling less and less now. Is this when that switch flips? Am I going to spend the rest of my life wishing I was younger after spending two decades wishing I was older? Seriously, even in daycare I preferred talking with the adults over the other kids. I gave the majority of my toys to my childhood daycare when I turned ten. All I kept was the stuffed animals because my mom told me I can pass them down to my kids. Pshh, yeah okay. Why would I have kids when I can be financially stable and have all the time in the world to devote to my career and my husband?
So many adults told me I was wrong when I said I didn’t want to have kids. Why would you do that? You’re making me feel stupid for speaking my mind. Yes, most of the time kids don’t know what they’re talking about, which is fine, they’re kids. But now that my fur babies are bringing out some maternal instincts and Andrew and I continue to plan our future together, the idea of having kids is appealing to me more and more. I’m sure by the time I’m 30 I’ll be ready to take on the challenge. But guess what, I don’t want to get all the “I told you so’s”. Sure, you’ll say it like a joke, doesn’t make it any better.
Maybe I take things too personally, sure, I’ll admit to that. But am I that wrong about this rant? Let me complain while I’m still technically a teenager. Being an adult is hard and I need to rant about it once in a while.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the term, “adulting” in the comments! Hope you had a better week than me folks!