Honestly, who signed these contracts for us when we were little foetuses greedily feeding off of our mothers. Evidently, the contracts came with a clause that reads “Come age 18, one must choose a career path. One must also get a job and go to sleep at an adult hour in order to wake up at an adult hour”. Well, no! I’m tired already and I would very much like to be fed, tucked into bed and if there’s time, gently rocked to sleep.
Though fairly independent now, I imagine many of us don’t actually enjoy being adults or doing adult like things, pretty much adulting in general. Admittedly, it’s increasingly hard remembering to do the things you’re just required to do. I mean, there’s nothing more soul crushing than calculating your money for the month ahead, and forgetting to include the data you purchased while on holiday on your phone bill. I too scream, ‘where the f%$^ does all my money go’ more often that not, you are not alone.
At only 23, I assume it only gets worse from here. I mean adults, real adults does it actually get any better? Please assure us that for the future CEO’s, Managers, Rap legends, Grandparents, Druggies et al, that it will get easier. If not, I fear a number of us will hang our heads sobbing every day on the way to our 9-6’s repeatedly whispering, ‘I forgot to switch off my bedroom light this morning, oh dear god.. the electric bill’.
As a young child I remember wishing to be an adult so I could wear high heels and grow breasts, but neither of those things happened sadly. When hit by the adult train I quickly came to the realisation that 1. high heels are terribly uncomfortable and I look like an awkward giraffe attempting to walk in them, and 2. that I would never grow boobs past a vest size 0A. I read somewhere that being an adult is mostly just googling stuff and being tired all the time and it’s true. I mean, what would my life be without Google? Google is wise and all knowing, and has allowed us to progress passed not knowing stuff, to actually learning a little… or you know, just relying on the internet to do that for us. Admittedly, I’m a little too reliant on Google and frequently whittle down my battery to nothing in order to get the answers and prove someone wrong.
So I ask again, when does one get the hang of being a real life adult? And how many other twenty-somethings have the following thought process? Surely I’m not alone on this one.
…..And to think, we’re not even halfway to the finish line, I just- I can’t even.