Adulting is hard.
Can I get an Amen?
There are days I sit at my desk and I think to myself, “I wish I still had my Barbies to play with.” Playing with Barbie and all those friends was WAY more exciting than my life.
I mean Barbie gets up every morning with perfect body, perfect hair, and a flawless wardrobe. She gets into her spiffy little Barbie sports car….and she is off to some exotic job in the world of fashion or finance.
I got up wearing the same leggings I have worn the past three days and an over sized t-shirt that says, “I’m An Official Gator Hater”. My hair was a frizzy mess, which I had ZERO time to wash and tame, so it went up in a bun on top of my head that my mother says looks like I have a squirrel nesting in my hair.
Once I finally get moving, I put on the pair of pants I wore on Monday….the same pants I ripped on my stapler (don’t ask) and spilled BBQ sauce on at lunch the same day. My shirt looks like I have slept in it the past week, and I am not quiet confident that I put on deodorant this morning.
I hop into my used Honda Civic, and race off to my job, where I do 100 things that no one in the office wants to do, only to have 50 more things laid on my desk that MUST be done by the end of the day. I forget my lunch, so I eat some donuts from the break room that I am pretty sure came in early LAST week.
This is my life.
This is my adulthood.
Something is Missing.
I thought adulthood was supposed to be nice clothes, a job you loved, freedom, and a larger bank account then when I was 16. Honestly, right now, my bank account when I was 16 is looking pretty hefty.
So, I would rather play with my Barbies, then adult today. However, playing with Barbie and Ken will not put gas in my car, or keep the electricity turned on in my home.
Growing up I watched shows like Friends, and Seinfeld. They made adulting seem fun. Being young, single, and free seemed exciting and VERY inviting. There were parties, sitting in coffee houses and cafes. Going on weekend trips with the gang, and game night!
Adulthood is NOTHING like that.
Most of my friends are as busy and broke as I am, so there are no long weekend adventures, no coffee house and cafe’ sitting, and game night needs to be over by 8:00 so we can be in bed by 9pm.
Exciting and entertaining stuff right?
So tonight I will go home, put back on the same leggings and over sized t-shirt I took off this morning. I will look into my fridge and try to determine if the red bowl contains chicken or beef. I am sure there are some crackers somewhere I can crumble up to make it totally edible. Then I will hop into my bed by 8:30 and dream of the days when I had it made. The days when my mom always made sure I had clean clothes to wear and good food to eat. Days where an adult always drove me where I needed to go, and someone always gave me spending money.
Those were good times. Those were the days.