Adulting

I don’t remember signing up for this,
but it’s happening and I’m attempting to navigate it one day at a time.

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According to Merriam–Webster:

To adult is to behave like an adult, to do the things that adults regularly have to do. This includes things like having a job and living independently, sure, but also such mundanities as taking clothes to the dry cleaners (and remembering to pick them up), making and keeping dental appointments, getting your car registered, doing yardwork.

I hate doing laundry. And washing dishes. And sweeping. I hate having to buy bread. And deciding between a night out or my next meal. And having to spend money on toilet bowl cleaner.

No one in school prepares you for this. They teach you the Pythagorean Theorem and how to conjugate a verb in spanish but never how to find an apartment or how to handle the anxiety of calling to set up a doctor’s appointment. How to balance your spending between keeping the lights on and keeping your kitchen stocked with more than tortillas and wine.

It seemed daunting while still living with my parents. Having to handle everything they unconsciously did for me. Having to plan my meal for the night instead of coming home to whatever was already on the table. Having to worry about paying for more than the gas in my car. Having to survive when you’re trying to be an independent adult who doesn’t want to call mom every time you turn on the stove.

I honestly didn’t think I could do it alone. So I felt relieved and comfortable when I was coaxed into moving out with my ex. I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about all those things all by myself. I knew I would have someone to laugh with when I burnt the toast again. Someone to worry about paying bills and do laundry with and buy bread with.

But as soon as I kicked him out of the apartment, the sheer and utter fear of having to do it all by myself hit me like an insect hits the windshield on a road trip. I was afraid I didn’t make enough money alone. That I couldn’t pay the bills. That I wouldn’t be able to eat. That I would have to move back home. That I would have failed.

Now, more than a year later, I can say that I succeeded. I did it all by myself. I conquered my fears and made my paychecks work for me. I paid every bill on time. And went to the movies. And went to happy hour. And bought Madame everything I could ever want for her. And saved money. And ate. And you can do it, too.

Take the leap. Do what you think is impossible, because it is absolutely possible. It won’t be easy. Sometimes you’ll cry in the shower. Sometimes you’ll eat tuna right out of the can for dinner. But you’ll become stronger. Create memories. Become a person that can handle anything life throws at you and rise above it all.

Until next time,
That Guy

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