"Become an adult," They said. "It will be fun," They said.
Doing the dishes has always been my favorite. Call it an odd pastime, but the idea of cleaning a sink full of dirty pots and pans gives me ease just about any day of the week. During my student teaching semester my favorite thing to do was to clean out the coffee maker and mugs at the end of each day.
The reason for this is simple: it’s predictable.
No students to talk back to me or refuse to do an assignment, no meetings to attend, no hustle and bustle of angry cars on the road; just a quiet sink and a sponge.
It soothes me even on my worst days.
And not only is this routine predictable, but it’s safe. I can easily control my life in that tiny bit of space and time.
As I stood at my sink just a moment ago scrapping off burnt plastic from a cookie sheet that nearly set my apartment on fire I couldn’t help but giggle at my altogether failed attempts at adulthood.
Calm down, Mom. I'm fine.
Some of this is to be expected.
Newly recovered from a traumatic brain injury? Yes.
First year teacher? That’s me.
Trying to live on your own for the first time in a new city with little to no life experience? Oh, hey. Me again.
I knew this day would come. I even blogged about it one time (see “Fake Adulthood and Other Things I Suck At").
But this time the struggle is, how you say, real.
Very fucking real.
Because I function best at a shit-show level of 75, I shall break down for you the real life adulty things that have come around to bite me in the 23 year old ass of mine:
Student Loans: Long been a thing that I “didn’t have to worry about right now,” student loans payments are right around the corner of “Adulthoodsucksville” and “Whatareresponsibilities” Street. I should be a city planner. Those are great street names. And something I want to point out is that not only have I sucked at finding any affordable education throughout my entire life, but also at filling out nearly every piece of paperwork associated with just about everything.
Bills: There was this one time this summer when I forgot to fill out a piece of paperwork for direct deposit (surprise, surprise) and ended up having my entire paycheck given to me on a temporary debit card. Fast forward to just a week ago when I bought a Chipotle burrito with said card and over drafted the account by a whopping $4. Today was going to be the day that I paid off the measly $4 and moved on with my life before they started charging me ungodly amounts of money on a card I don’t use. Three locations and several pieces of paperwork later I finally paid the $4…oh, but the minimum for that payment is actually $10…and there is a $3.95 processing fee. Fine. Whatever.
Technology: While driving all around Denver looking for the right bank location to fill out paperwork for a pathetic $4 bill, my GPS decided not to work and I ended up lost in the city for an hour cursing my inability to effectively navigate a town that I have lived in for my entire life.
Driving: If you were looking for the curb, I found it. And two blocks from my apartment that I was trying so desperately to get back to before I lost my sanity with the passing wind. My right tire was flat as a pancake and in a truly non-feminist way I called my brother to help me change it. This was also the highlight of my day and cost me an exciting $59 dollars to get two new tires. I say exciting because in actuality I think tires cost a lot more than that these days. And I think the mechanic must have felt really sorry for me and thought I was homeless or something so he gave me a discount. That or he thought I was cute. I’ll take either honestly.
Parking: What’s that? A parking ticket you say? Sure, I’ll be responsible and pay that right away. Wait. Where the fuck did I put that parking citation? No, really. It’s fine. I’ll just call the city of Denver and talk to a human who will surely help me. Oh? They don’t employ humans anymore in call centers? Oh, that’s fine. I’ll just describe my brain injury and inability to keep track of tiny slips of paper to a robot. Good plan.
Cooking/Not Setting The Apartment on Fire: I got so excited to buy the correct size cookie sheets that would fit in my prehistoric oven that I forgot to take the paper off of one of them that was stored below. Haven’t eaten all day because apparently I have to feed myself because my parents aren't around to do it. Let’s make a pizza! That sounds niiiiiice. Cue mass panic and realization that I don’t yet own a fire extinguisher, however I might clearly need one in a moment if I don’t figure out what’s going on here with this smoking business.
Teaching: Yep. Ask me how much I have planned for this week? Go ahead. Ask away. Oh? You want to know how many papers I have graded over Fall Break? Yeah??? YOU WANNA TAKE THIS OUTSIDE, PUNK.
Alright. That’s enough whining for one blog post. All things considered I have it pretty good these days despite my hilarious missteps and laughable behavior. And it gives me solace to know that my exciting life can always put a friend in a good mood when they hear the newest shenanigans that I've gotten myself into these days.
What’s that one Smashmouth song?