We got a little problem.
See, I’m 24 years old. I’ve been a legal adult for 6 years now. So I don’t really know how it happened. But somehow I missed the registration for the How to Be an Adult 101 classes. I’m a teeny bit lost.
Frankly, Universe, I don’t know what the freak I’m doing.
In my childhood, I learned to count and read. In my teen-dom, I learned to do algebra, write papers, and kiss. In my college years, I learned to speak my mind, take shots, and buy take out. Now, I know these are all enviable skills. (Especially the kissing). But kissing skills can only get you so far in this world. Other than a really strong tongue muscle…. I digress….
Be mature, Taylor, be mature….
How was the How to Feed Yourself 101 day? Do other adults do this easily? I mean – You plan a meal and high five yourself. Then you go to the grocery store, forget your list, remind yourself you’re too friggin awesome to forget 3/4 of your ingredients, learn you really are that awesome because you only forgot 1/3 of them, go back to the store to spend more money on the ingredients you forgot, only to follow a recipe perfectly and still have the nastiest salmon dish your mouth has ever tasted. That’s just too much work on a Tuesday.
How was the How to be Cool, Calm, and Collected 101 day? Because I really could have used that one. All these grown-ups walking around like they know what’s up and it’s all under control. They answer “I’m fine” when you ask “How are you?” Fine?! I’d believe it if fine meant F-ed up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. When I’m supposed to be demure and poised, I’m more like an excited dog or a fire alarm or an airplane crashing over the Sahara Desert in slow, fiery motion.
Oh and the Sex and Relationships 101 class? I know I’ve already discussed my great kissing skills, but beyond that it’s a little mushy. Did you teach everyone how to stick two people in the same house and have it be love and roses and a romantic comedy with sparkly lights? Because it’s more like “Why did you leave that wet washcloth on the sink?” followed by “Did you really just stink up the bathroom before I have to use it?” followed by “I haven’t shaved in five days, wanna make out?”
Then the bills, the doctors, the insurance and retirement and investments, the family planning, and the Good Lord why in the name of everything holy do doctors get to charge you when you’re a few minutes late, but have no problem making you wait until all the eggs in your ovaries expire before writing you a prescription for Z-Pac?! I could have told the doctor I needed a Z-Pac! I can see the white strep-throat-spots. I DO have an iPhone flashlight, a mirror, and the ability to stick out my tongue and say “Ah” like a good 5-year-old.
Universe, either you forgot to sign me up for Adulting classes OR everyone else is faking it. Like little toddlers in tall, awkward bodies thinking they got away with something and wondering who the hell decided to pass out “You’re an adult now” licenses.
So now I’m gonna drink a glass of wine (how remarkably fully-grown of me), then keep pretending like I know what I’m doing. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just say – “I ain’t got a clue, but I’m gonna make it work anyway.” And I’m gonna kiss a lot while I do it, probably mess up a pinch, but always be fabulous. Because I might be an adult with adult responsibilities, but nobody told me I had to grow up….. Probably because I missed that class.
Taylor the Adult But Not Really
P.S. If you don’t laugh at life because it’s so silly, you’ll cry because it’s so not silly.
P.S.S. An apple made my permanent retainer become unglued while I was writing this post. Nothing drives home the point of not feeling like an adult more than calling the dentist to fix your retainer.