The Journey to Adulthood

       I’ve been an adult for three years and four months now. Three and a third years. But that’s not really accurate – it was only recently that I began to look around at my apartment and my life and think to myself: “well…damn, I’m an adult now.”

      See, I’m starting to realize that it’s not one of those transitions that happens instantaneously like that 18^th birthday when you go out and buy a pack of cigs and a porno mag for the first time. Or like that first day you look down and notice weird things going on in your underpants and your body is screaming at you - “hey, you’re growing up!” The transition to adulthood has been more of a gradual thing, building up with defining moments such as the day that I finally convinced my parents to trust my judgment (aka back the fuck off) and the first time I had to schedule my own doctor appointment. (I still don’t understand all of this “health insurance” nonsense.) Also the traumatizing laundry incident when I accidentally dyed my favorite shirt pink.

This guy accidentally dyed his entire outfit pink - how embarrassing!

      I think the real defining moment that kicked off this metamorphosis, though, was the first time I went to go pee and the toilet paper was completely gone – not a single square of TP to be found in my whole house. And it stayed that way for a few days. And I resorted to tissues and paper towels and the old drip n’ dry method until finally I accepted that toilet paper was never going to magically re-spawn. I had to actually make a trip out to the store and buy it. But the life changing hysteria and confusion did not end there...

      Once I got to the store I was faced with the monumental decision of what kind of toilet paper to buy. It absolutely bewildered me – for something as simple as potty paper to wipe my nether regions, there were A LOT of choices. For the first time in my life I had to make this really earth-shattering decision between saving money and the cushy softness of the paper that I use to wipe my butt. It was a seriously jarring experience…

Don't even get me started on the mind bending decisions of cheese, paper towels, and shampoo

      Life as an adult is interesting. Rather, I’d call it my life as a pseudo-adult because right now I don’t think I’m quite there yet…even though I can legally drink alcohol and join the army and vote. I’m in this sort of transitional mentality where I’m beginning to understand my parents’ overbearing perspective yet everything is also terrifyingly new and I still awkwardly stumble over hurdles like managing my finances and leaving the grocery store with things other than alcohol, ice cream, and ramen.

      I think I’m also realizing too, that this child to adult cocoon doesn’t occur the same for anybody. I’m pretty helpless for a 21 year old; I’ve never used a lawn mower, I have no idea what those random blinky lights in my car mean, and at times my newly found independence is slightly overwhelming.

Hey guys! I just found out I don't have to ask my mom if it's okay to watch R rated movies

      I had the luxury in my childhood that I never had to worry about money or food or having a place to live. My biggest fear as a kid was losing one of my gazillion stuffed animals in a Best Buy parking lot. I was a materialistic little bugger! Not everybody grows up with that kind of carefree childhood lifestyle. And likewise, some people continue to have that worry free existence for their entire life.
 

      Growing up, I always had this idea that being a certain age, being an adult meant having everything figured out. The doctors and teachers and scientists – all of the adults were just “right” all the time. But as I have progressed into the stage of my life where I am now fully aware that I’m not away at summer camp anymore – I’m really living as an adult – I have realized how little anybody ever has figured out. The more I learn, the more I recognize how much I don’t understand. Every fact or lesson arises ten more unanswered questions.
 

      I’m starting to wonder if anybody ever really figures out anything…or if being endlessly confused and curious is just part of being alive. Maybe we form some delusion of understanding and hold onto the simple things so we can feel safe from uncertainty. Or maybe we are just supposed to fake it until the explanations emerge naturally.

(Yep...next time I'm going with the Charmin Ultra Soft.)