I think we can all agree that being a grown-up sucks way more than we thought it would when we were ten. If I wanted to, I could stay up until 11pm watching horrendously violent and sex-filled TV while eating M&Ms for dinner, and that’s really all my ten-year-old self needed to be happy in life. But as reality has it, adulthood happens to be one giant shitfest of whatthefuckjusthappened, with an extra dose of craptastic on the days when you need it least.
That said, there are a few things about being a grown-up that are pretty swank. Here are a few things that I love now that were the bane of my existence when I was ten. Hint: none of them involve M&Ms or staying up late. In fact, the first one is…
Going to bed early
For realisies, people, my bed is the best place on the planet. It’s king sized and it comfortably fits me, my husband-person, and my dog. It is soft and warm and blankety and wonderful. I like to get into it at 8:30pm and turn off the rest of the universe. Screw staying up late — sleeping is the shit. And I don’t care what you think, going to bed at a reasonable hour is WAY better than naps. As a grown-up, I’ve always woken up from naps feeling like I missed half of life and permanently warped my internal space-time continuum.
Okay I know this sounds lame, but polishing my shoes is so much fun. It’s like going shoe shopping in my own closet. It’s like getting a whole new wardrobe of shoes. I also get an inordinate amount of pleasure out of watching dirty things become clean, so that helps too. But for real — want to feel better about the metaphorical or literal pile of adult shit you just walked through? Polish your favorite pair of shoes. It’ll help.
I’m not even a parent yet and I enjoy me some good old fashioned quiet time. And this is coming from someone who never shuts up. I’ll be honest — I like to hear myself talk, and if I have an audience, I’m usually yapping away about something. But when I’m at home and there’s no one else there, I almost never turn on the TV. I’m far more likely to sit in complete silence reading. Silence is golden.
Maybe it’s because we get used to the bitter shit in life as we get older. There is something hopelessly weird about drinking fermented grains, guzzling water steeped in burnt beans, and slathering bread with plant seeds crushed into vinegar… but dammit if beer, coffee, and mustard aren’t three of my favorite things on the freakin’ planet.[/nextpage]
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In an extension of “bitter-tasting things,” “kale” is acting as a stand-in for all that healthyass shit you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole when you were a kid. While I actually do enjoy kale, it’s not so much the kale I’m celebrating here as it is the feeling significantly more awesome when I eat decent food (read: when I don’t eat Big Macs and wash them down with M&Ms and beer). (Mmmm… beer.)
There was no more boring place when I was a kid than the hardware store. Aisle after aisle of thirteen bajillion different types of screws. And screwdrivers. And lightbulbs. Something happens to you when you buy your first house, though, and all of a sudden Home Depot is a mainstay on the Saturday morning errand list — and it doesn’t suck. I actually enjoy buying paint. And watching it dry. Grownuphood is so awesomely dull.
Remembering old shit
Admit it — you’ve had the conversation, and you’ve enjoyed it. The story of your first household computer, which probably sat in your living room and took up half the desk, or the stories about that wall phone with the eleventy-thousand foot cord that could make it from the kitchen to the bedroom on the other side of the house and once strangled the cat. You love having those conversations, and you love it when the youngsters in your family contort their faces when they encounter something that doesn’t have a touchscreen.
I distinctly remember grabbing my sister’s cheeks and shaking her head while she screamed when I was five and she was two. Another time, I knotted my Dad’s favorite tie around the bedroom door. When it was discovered, I blamed my little sister, and she straight up confessed to that shit. As an adult, I’ve resolved to be much less of a bitch to my little sister, who’s actually a pretty awesome human — one of my favorites, actually. My brother-in-law and his wife aren’t too shabby, either.
Being an adult sucks. I have to do things like keep track of all my passwords, pay bills, read legalese, keep track of money, and do laundry. But hey, at least I have the occasional early bedtime, a refrigerator full of kale and mustard, a pair of newly-polished shoes, and an awesome sister to commiserate with when I’m late to work on a rainy day and the bus breaks down.