Why Adulting Is Not For Me
Ever since I turned 18 and was penetrated by adulthood and infected with HIV (Highly Irresponsible Virus) sans lube, it’s been an exhausting cycle of getting screwed daily.
I’m talking about the biggest scam in the history of forever — growing up.
Most people grow up; others just get taller.
I’m here to take a stand on the ladder latter. I’m tired of this. I have no idea what I’m doing and every day is a constant battle between which menial task I’ll be f*cking up today, and ways to escape its inevitable consequences.
Now what exactly does it mean to be an adult? I’m honestly the last person you want to ask. But I think I have an idea.
So as a kid, you’re lured into this expensive trap with shiny things like debt and bills. Things that sounded cool to have because you had no idea what they meant when you were planning your prosperous future at five.
I’ve now arrived at the ripe age of 25 and some mornings I want nothing more than for someone to cook all my meals and wipe my butt after the potty.
Kidding. I think.
But how awesome would that life be. Not just having someone to wipe your butt, but being in a position to afford to hire someone to wipe your butt. Talk about the AMERICAN DREAM! #Goals2016
You know back in the day, kings used to employ people to wipe their ass. Not even joking. Talk about a sh*tty job. Bahahaha — see? What adults still joke about poop? None.
But poop is HILARIOUS. Why? Because we all do it and produce it, yet for some reason when I tried to sell dog poop in a Nutella jar to make side money for student loans, they tried to arrest me. Like, c’mon. That’s funny! Because it’s poop! But I digress.
Ok, now back to why I can’t go more than 5 minutes without talking about poop be an adult. Because there’s clearly only room for so many of us them in this world.
Gone are the days of irresponsibility, because now that I’m trying to adult in life, I must contribute more than just my existence to the world. My daily oxygen to carbon dioxide conversions are no longer enough to make this world happy.
I try so hard to wake up every morning with the adultiest attitude — adulting in the shower, on the toilet, and surely adulting the hell out of my email signatures. Using multiple lines to compensate for my lack of importance. Pretending I’m employed. Happily going about my adult ways to cruise down the dead end highway of Adulthood.
But I fail. Constantly. And here’s what I mean.
1. I am never on time.
Have a meeting at 10am sharp? Great. See you at 10:47, and not a minute past.
It’s said that people who struggle with punctuality, are just intrinsically optimistic souls who try to cram as much into their days as possible. This would be an adult excuse to make. But because I don’t quite identify with that category, I will shamelessly blame the snooze’s inability to function after being thrown across the room. Therefore, making me late.
2. I suck at flirting.
A hot guy in Spain once asked me where I was from. But you wanna know what information I gave him instead? My name.
Because only adults know that when you’re asked a question, listening to it and forming a response would be the smart, adult thing to do. And because of awkward reasons, there’s no way to recover from this blunder. So I had to make up a city called Gloria in California. Ya know, close to LA. I’m sure you’ve passed it on the freeway. So yes, I’m Gloria from Gloria, California, and I’m just going to walk away now.
3. If my card ever gets declined in public, I pretend I’m caught off guard by it.
Oh, you’ve been there. Every person has. You just paid a bill. You forgot about those shoes you bought the other day. Or the most unadult excuse, you don’t get paid for another two weeks and you’re just flat out broke. But please clerk, try and run my card three more times to be sure, and I’m going to cross my fingers and pray that you find sympathy for my pathetic self as I fail to clear this 84 cent donut with my debit card. Don’t judge. The good ol’ college days.
4. My 401K sounds more like my debt than my future savings.
Let’s be real here. When it comes to my 401K, I think more about how much I owe than I what I need to be saving. It’s a praw-lum ya heard. A PRAW-LUM! (read: problem)
5. A productive day consists of one where I fit in the time for a nap.
Because obviously if I need a nap, it means I’ve worked hard. Because work makes you tired. Whether that work is Facebook scrolling, remote control flipping, or making coffee, these are exhausting tasks and if I’m able to complete them, I should be rewarded accordingly. Your arguments are invalid.
6. “That’s what she said” ALWAYS APPLIES.
I was on a walking tour the other day here in Munich, Germany and our guide was talking about the clock show they have on the city hall tower. It’s similar to the one in Prague, but according to him — and I quote, “It might be too short for some, and too long for others”.
With every bit of restraint and maturity already flushed down the toilet along with poop a 401K, I proudly reminded the group of 30+ around us, that that is indeed, what she said.
Eruption followed and all of a sudden we transformed into a bunch of 12-year-olds. It was golden.
7. Answering the phone is terrifying.
How does one gain confidence in answering a phone when a call is unexpected? ESPECIALLY when it’s from a private or blocked number?
Now back in the states, I hardly ever answered private calls, because it’s probably Sallie Mae nobody important, but here in Europe, it could literally be anyone. I don’t remember who I give my numbers out to, and clients, banks, and companies have all called me under suspicious numbers, so I’m less cynical.
But, that doesn’t mean I know what to do when I click accept. Do I answer with my normal, spunky self. “Hey!” Do I act like I’m a fugitive and answer with the suspicious and hesitant, “Hello???” Do I put on a proper voice in case it’s a potential client and I can fool them into thinking I’m an adult and stuff? “Why, hello there — Oh, you’re looking for Gloria? Well by golly, this is she and we is thee. Bless. How can I help you?”
LORDT. Have all the mercy.
8. What is folded laundry?
Asking the real questions here. Does folded laundry even exist anymore, or is it a faint memory of a tainted past when I was a child and dirty clothes transformed into clean ones by Monday, neatly put away in my dresser.
I honestly don’t remember the last time I was able to complete a wash, dry, fold (and God, don’t even mention ironing) cycle in one day, week, or month.
My clothes are on a rotation from my body, to the floor, to the wash, to the bed. Eventually I’ll wear these suckers again and when that time comes, I’ll save sooooo much time because it’ll already be on my bed! Easy to find — along with the pile of every other item in my wardrobe. Ha, whoops.
Living out of a suitcase these past few weeks reminded me that folding is overrated. And life’s too short to learn German spend a third of your life on a fold, wear, re-fold cycle. Especially us, ladies. Because we all know our other cycle is already one too many #amirite???
9. Sometimes I pour wine in my coffee cup.
Not with coffee of course. *has horrid flashbacks to adventurous college days*
But there were a couple jobs I worked where I “accidentally” poured wine into my coffee cup and the fact that I was still able to be tolerable efficient, blend in, and not give out random hugs and compliments like our tipsy selves love to do, shows that this might be the closest thing to adulthood that I have to offer. And for that, I am proud.
10. Sleep is my answer for everything.
Have you ever had a growing to-do list, and just the thought or glance over everything you needed to do made you tired? Like, sometimes it’s exhausting just to think about all the things you need to do. And never mind the fact that you’re already passed the deadline for most of them, the answer for everything is always sleep.
Sleeping makes you forget about your problems until you have to wake up again. In which case, you could arguably just keep falling asleep and putting off your responsibilities until it’s the end of the week and by then, you should probably tell your boss you’re sorry for blowing five consecutive vacation days on a lack of motivation to do anything even closely related to work, let alone adulting.
So to my fellow, aspiring, failing, and transitioning adults, may the force (that force of course, is wine) be with you (you as in, your cup). Cheers! 
Footnote: For research purposes, the exact number of times ‘poop’ was stated in this article was 7. This is of course, after an edit from an initial publication of 43.
