You know how everyone's always in a hurry to grow up and start doing adult stuff? Trust me, I was there. Once upon a time. And then I became an adult. And found myself incapable of adulting. True story.
So I sat down and compiled a list of things I suck at as an adult. These are not major things like filling out a form at a bank (although I tremble like an autumn leaf in the wind even thinking about filling out forms at the bank) or applying for a National Insurance Number (which reminds me, where is my National Insurance Number?). These are everyday things that you learn automatically as a part of growing up. Which I probably did learn at some point and then unlearned because that's what adults do. Anyway, compiling this list has made me feel a little bit ashamed of the adult I have failed at becoming. So here goes.
Things I SUCK at as an adult:
Talking: To people, I mean. I have very lengthy and meaningful conversations with dogs and pets except cats. You just can't talk to a cat because you know it's judging you. It's the same with people. If I know in advance that I will be socializing, I will manage to muster up the courage to talk to people. But if you meet me out of the blue and expect me to blurt out even a single coherent sentence, you have seriously high expectations, dude! And the worst part is talking on the phone with strangers. Talking to family and friends is okay. Even if you haven't spoken in a while, it gets better. But talking to a complete stranger? Making appointments? I choke up on my own puke when I have to do that. No seriously, I made The Husband book my hair appointment the other day because I was sure I'd call them up and say, "Hi fellow human being. I'm a human being with hair that needs maintenance. Could you please maintain my hair for me? Bye.".
Walking: I used to be good at it. But I blame the cobble stones in Edinburgh for all the times I have fallen on my face and miraculously escaped the plight of having to limp around in a cast. The cobble stones have made me unlearn the art of walking.
Texting: I don't like giving people my number because that would mean they could potentially text me at some point. And texts scare me. There are people I text regularly and that's okay. Because I obviously gave them my number so that I can talk to them from time to time. But sometimes when someone who hasn't been in my life for like, 5 whole years, decides to leave me a message, I don't open it for a while. So that way, they don't see that I have "seen" the message and I can socialize later. The problem with replying promptly is that you could be forced to have a conversation for an indefinite period of time with a real person and that makes me uncomfortable. Introverts unite! To be honest, I leave my phone lying around the house a lot so my carelessness actually makes it easy for me to avoid conversations. Ha!
Answering doors: This has been a problem from the time I can remember. Even while I was living with my parents, I never felt comfortable with the idea of someone ringing the doorbell and waiting for permission to enter. Even if it's a package that's being delivered to my house. I don't trust you, delivery man. So I peep out the window and spy on the person standing outside for a solid 2 minutes, making sure that he/she looks sane enough before opening the door.
Eating at a table: To be fair, we eat our breakfast at the dining table on weekdays because we're always in a hurry, what with The Husband taking an hour long shower in the morning and me cooking 30 minutes after he gets into the shower which doesn't leave us with enough time to squeeze in an episode of The American Horror Story before he leaves for work. But all other meals are had on the couch. The table is my desk. It's my little work station and that's it's primary function. Food on the couch only. With not-so-shitty soaps playing in the background.
Recycling: Yeah, I don't do that sometimes. Most times. Okay, fine. I hardly ever recycle my waste. I'm ashamed of myself and feel bad for the environment. In my defence, whenever I decided to recycle, sorting out all my waste and placing the correct basket outside the door on the correct day, something would inevitably go wrong. Apparently there's always this one item in there that wasn't supposed to go in that particular basket. And they punish me by not emptying just my basket. To top that, someone in my neighbourhood recently stole my blue cover for the basket and replaced it with a blue plastic bag. That person alone has discouraged me from recycling.
Cleaning on a schedule: I know how my mother has a schedule for everything. She has a calender hanging in the kitchen where she marks the date on which the bathrooms were cleaned, the gardeners came in, and the brass items were polished. So organised and inspiring, isn't it? Yeah, I don't do that. Yet. Seeing how I'm slowly turning into her, I might some day. But I don't know the exact date on which we last cleaned the bathroom. That's what antibacterial wipes are for. We wipe down every surface of the house, almost every single day. Good enough.
Using coupons: We get a bunch of coupons from our local supermarket and from places we eat at often. Every time I get a coupon, I decide that I'm going to save some money this month by making use of their 30% discount. And then I forget all about them. Out of sight, out of mind. We just lost a chance to eat at a great restaurant for almost 40% off. FML.
Dealing with opened mail: Talking about out of sight, out of mind, I don't deal with opened mail and "paper stuff" in general. Even expired coupons just lie around the house. I can't handle them. I just can't. I hope that someday, they will grow limbs of their own and walk to the bins themselves. Have some self respect, paper waste!
Dates: I know today is a Tuesday. But I don't know the date. Never ask me the date. You won't find dates even on this website. I have no clue.
Stocking the fridge: I should do that when I see that I have just one egg, one slice of bread and one piece of bacon remaining in the fridge. But nope. I make a sandwich out of even that before deciding to go get my groceries. There's a special sense of satisfaction in seeing my tiny fridge completely empty before filling it up from scratch.
Being a housewife: I'm just not a very good one, is all. I mean it's been the most fun phase of my life. I still don't know if I'm going to get out there and start sitting behind a desk that's not in my own home at some point. But as of now, I'm happy this way. It's just that I'm not very good at "housewifing" if you know what I mean. I guess all the above points summarize why. You could throw in the fact that I'm a culinary idiot into that pile. Makes no difference.
I really hoped that the list wouldn't have more that 10 points. I could write an extra 3 and make it 15 or an extra 8 to make it 20. The thick skin helps. But the laziness doesn't.
Have a nice day, y'all!