I consider myself a beginner adult.
As such, there is a limited number of responsible activities I can (usually) handle on a daily basis. This list includes:
- Going to work
- Spending time with my husband
- Exercising a little
- Brushing and flossing my teeth
Not included on this list are:
- Picking up prescriptions from Walgreens
- Returning library books
- DMV appointments
- Daily showers
I would be interested to see what items make it onto your list of can-do activities. I would probably gain insight into both your personality and your priorities. In my case, the above list reflects the current scope of my emotional stamina.
Being a beginner adult means that I generally know what I’m supposed to be doing but don’t feel much hope that I will do it. I read emails reminding me that my book was overdue last Tuesday and that, if I don’t pick up my prescription today, I’ll have to re-order. I watch the prickly green monsters in my yard approach knee-height and wonder how long it will be until the neighbors complain. I build precarious towers of bowls in the sink, and I braid my hair in the mornings hoping no one can tell that it’s a little greasy.
A dear friend of mine once received mockery for keeping her Christmas tree months beyond December. She did not want to keep it. Its needles had long ago died – although they somehow remained attached to their branches – and she had packed away all the lights and ornaments. Still the tree sat, bare and faded, in her living room.
At the time I laughed at her a little over the phone, but I totally got it. Like me, this friend was adjusting to married life for the first time. Her brand-new job was physically and emotionally exhausting. She was fresh out of college and unused to home ownership. It was just . . . a lot to handle.
I’m sure those of you who have been adulting for decades will back me up on this: the little stuff can be tough. Sometimes I observe people like my mother who continuously accomplish feats such as grocery shopping, putting dinner in the crock pot, taking children to dentist appointments, and scheduling emissions tests, and I feel slightly panicked. It looks so easy for them, I think.
Chances are good, however, that it was a learning curve for them, too.
My hope is that adulthood will be like driving on the freeway: it will take practice. I remember a time when merging onto I25 terrified me. Now I change lanes without thinking. (Except in downtown Denver. Please don’t ask me to drive downtown.) One day cooking dinner for a family of four won’t seem like a big deal, and neither will driving to the pharmacy.
For now, I’ll try not to get too frustrated about the dishes and focus on what I am accomplishing. I love my husband, and we spend lots of time watching The Office in bed. We usually have clean laundry (even if it stays piled in the hamper instead of going in the drawers). We cuddle with our kitty and, when we can, prioritize time with parents and grandparents. I’m learning a lot at work. We’re growing and stretching, and I will get better at this stuff.
Until then, I’ll take adulthood one step at a time.
The Reluctant Bride