Ya know how when you're a teenager, you think that your 16th bday is going to be this huuuuuge change in your life? Like, you'll just wake up that morning feeling like adolescence is no longer screwing you over and the world is now yours? Then, of course, you realize that 16 feels exactly like 15, except that the pain of not having a car has gotten a bit more noticeable... so you spend the next two years waiting to turn 18 because you just KNOW that you'll wake up on your 18th bday feeling like a brand new grown-up. 18 comes... 18 is uneventful. You can suddenly buy cigarettes and lottery scratchers, but quickly realize that you have no desire to spend your hard-earned minimum wage on either one. 21 will be fantastic, though... You're sure of it. Oh wait... you've been drinking with your friends for years now. The only difference is that now you can do so in public. Damn.
Turns out, the "big change" happens on your 25th bday. Or at least it did for me. I turned 25 yesterday, and it was the weirdest thing to just wake up in the morning feeling 25. Now, anyone over the age of... let's say... 28 probably... is going "F you, Bethany! You have no idea! Wait until you're staring down the barrel of 30!" The near 40 crowd is lightly sobbing. The 50+ crowd is laughing histerically at how little I know about getting old. Let me just clarify, I'm not saying that I woke up feeling old. It's more like... I woke up feeling like I had suddenly, irreversibly, and very clumsily entered adulthood.
This is all very strange because, like many, I had to do the "growing up too soon" routine. Friends and family have always considered me the mature one. I've been working full-time or close to it since high school, sacrificed many a party in order to finish my undergrad in 4 1/2 years, and have been working for the government for over a year. I really don't fit the definition of a "kid." Yet, somehow, there's always a piece of me that still feels like the awkward 16 year old surrounded by people who know how the world works. But yesterday I woke up feeling like I needed to become one of these "grown-ups" I keep hearing about.
So, since it looks like I'll be surviving into adulthood afterall, I'm going to need a gameplan. Here's what I've got so far:
1.) Teach the dogs to be useful. -- I don't plan on having kids any time soon. In fact, I don't plan on having kids... I just think it's safest to assume that I may feel differently in the future. This isn't really a big deal to me (or to bf, thank goodness), but it creates a bit of a problem with our household. See, everyone knows that the only reason people have kids is so that there's someone to do the household chores (don't act all shocked... I'm on to you people), which is awesome because, well... I hate doing the damn dishes. BUT, if I don't have kids until I'm 30, and then those kids require another 5-6 years of training before they can be put to work (talk about slow learners... sheesh), that means that I'm going to have to do my own dishes for the next 10-11 YEARS!!! This is unacceptable. I've given the dogs an ultimatum... either they get a job and start supporting their own kibble habit and contributing to the rent, or they're going to have to pitch in with dishes and laundry.
2.) Take a class on how to write a damn grocery list. -- I swear, I was good at this once. My mom taught me to write the best damn grocery lists ever. They were laid out in the order that I would find things in the store. They included alternates in case the price of orange juice was particularly high that week. They even specified what flavor of Rice-a-roni I needed. All of that is gone. I'm pretty sure that when I was cramming for my biochemistry final in my senior year, I lost a significant amount of basic knowledge. I'd like that back. Why the hell do I have blueberry muffin Pop Tarts??
3.) Transfer my belongings from the back of my vehicle into my apartment. -- Okay, maybe I still spend more than your average 40 hours/week at work, but this isn't college anymore. I'm not driving from Job #1 to Class to Lab to Job #2 to Home-so-I-can-pass-out-for-a-few-hours-before-heading-to-bf's-house-for-the-weekend. The exorbitant amount of crap in my vehicle is no longer excusable, and the "just in case I need it" story quit being valid when I lost the ability to find anything that may have otherwise been useful. While I'm at it, I might think about unpacking those boxes that I haven't touched since two apartments ago.
4.) Learn to use a weapon. -- Let me just say, I am not one to believe in far-fetched theories of conspiracy or science fiction. However, if there is a zombie apocalypse/alien invasion/vampire uprising/terrorist holocaust/hippy rebellion, I would really hate myself for not being prepared. Therefore, I feel that it will be in my best interest to be well versed in the use of several different weapons. Giant hammer is my first pick, but to be honest, I'm going to need to build up some upper body strength before that can be effective, so I'll be starting with ninja stars. I like the idea of weapons that put a decent amount of distance between me and my opponent. I briefly considered a flame thrower, but being attacked by fire zombies doesn't seem like it's going to help the situation.
5.) Learn to walk in more than just one pair of high heels. -- I have one pair of heels that I can walk completely comfortably in. I have a handful that I can fake it fairly well in. I also have several that are reserved specifically for events where I will be sitting 90% or more of the time. True story. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to fix that. There's a point where this is no longer endearing, but just a bit sad.
6.) Come to terms with the fact that my metabolism is only going to get shittier from here on out. -- Let's face it, this is no longer the Freshman 15... *cough*40*cough*... that I'm dealing with here. The biggest "Holy-shit-I'm-25" issue I've been dealing with is the fact that my body is not going to have any easier of a time dealing with my weight from this point forward. It's like in the movie "Knocked Up"... Annoying older sister is talking about loser boyfriend and says, "He's overweight. Where does that end?" Where does it end? I'm perfectly okay with spending my life a little chubby, but am I where I want to be? When do I put down the ice cream and say, "Alright... time to grow the hell up and do this!"
Right. F'ing. Now. The elliptical and I are about to become best friends. Not the real kind of best friends, but the kind of best friends that talk shit about each other behind their backs all the time. Ya know... like every girl you ever knew in high school.
Man, I hope this isn't some kind of temporary "I'm 25!" euphoric burst of will-power. Please let this suvive the weekend. I really want to learn to use throwing stars.