So, a lot of times, adulting gets a bad rap. Cute pics of collapsed kittens on Facebook, with captions like “Too tired to adult” and “Adulting is hard”
Well, adulting IS hard. After those halcyon years of somebody else going to work, paying the bills, picking up after the dog, and (if you were lucky) somebody else providing Maslow’s foundation for you, you get to adult. For decades. And the only end in sight for it is – well – the end.
Pretty dreary, right? Mais non! (that’s French for ‘I’m going to write more about this’).
Compared to being, essentially, minor chattel until at least the age of 18, the cards are all yours when you’ve graduated to adulting. Like, ALL yours. Sure, it can be burdensome sometimes (usually, for me, that moment comes like clockwork when the bill for our excellent but stupid-expensive municipal water comes). But the water bill isn’t due to come until January sometime, so I thought I’d share a bit of the fun stuff about adulting as it occurs to me on this Christmas Eve morning, when I’ve had about 4 hours of sleep, 2/3’s of a pot of coffee, and a box (yes, an entire box) of mac and cheese for breakfast.
Ok, let’s start with the mac n cheese. To be followed in no particular order by things as they occur to me. Bear in mind, this is from the perspective of a middle-aged, child-free, homeowning, job-going, more-or-less-discreet-iconoclast who has the tremendous good fortune to live in the weird-capitol of the United States. (Yes, that city in Texas said it first…but we’ve claimed it as our own, and rightfully so). Your mileage may vary, based on your location and driving conditions.
- If you want a box of mac n cheese for breakfast, by god, you can have one. I did. With lots of salt and pepper and cayenne. OK, it was gluten-free. And organic. But hey – mac and cheese! For breakfast! (p.s. I just ate one of those gold foil Rocher things, too. Still breakfast. Ha.)
- You want to spend your entire paycheck on graham crackers or lottery tickets or blue suede shoes, you can. I don’t recommend it, but hey – it’s your money. You worked for it, it’s yours.
- You get to decide how to run your life – exercise, diet, social activities, hobbies, religion, what you read, when you read it, TV or not, pets or not…basically a world of possibilities…or not. The ‘not’ part is important.
- You can vote and drink and have sexual relationships and sign contracts and apply for a passport and drive. The perks of adulting are nothing to sneeze at, folks.
- Your personal style and hygiene are under your own control. Yeah, it kinda sucks to pay for your own health insurance. But – you get to decide. Don’t want vaccinations? Don’t get them! Or say yes to some, and no to others – point being, that instead basically being hauled like property and having medical things done to you, you get to decide. How awesome is that? Pretty damned awesome, in my book.
- Freedom. To leave a job, relationship, town, or even the country. OK, I realize that it might not be financially possible or socially desirable to just pick up and leave – But. You. Can.
- You get to curate your own life. You get to play with the world. Decide you’re tired of an identity/life choice/decorating style/image/whatever? Change it. Try on something else. Change your name, your gender, your job, your language, your belief system, your politics! I won’t judge – I do it all the time.
I could go on and on. But I’m sure you’ve caught my drift.
Besides, I am going to stop writing and start drinking hot jasmine tea out of an exquisite little pre-WWII japanese bowl. It’s actually some kind of little soup bowl, I think….and why am I drinking green jasmine tea out of a soup bowl at 7am on a Saturday Christmas Eve morning after eating mac n cheese and froofy chocolates for breakfast?
That’s right, pal……I’m ADULTING. 😀