the moment i knew i was an "adult"
they all warned us. they all said "enjoy being young, because it only gets worse." they told us our youth wouldn't last forever and soon we'd be paying bills and griping about our health, just like the rest of them. we didn't believe them. how could we? we were young and vibrant. the world was at our fingertips. we stayed up every weekend night until the sun rose, sipping on lukewarm beer and reminiscing about what had happened only hours earlier. we ate late night pizza and challenged one another on who could come up with the most disturbing concoction of food known to man. we were ignorant to the fact that, one day, we would be considered adults. it was too far away to care about. well, guess what?
IT'S HERE.
that day has come and when it did, it hit me straight across my face, knocking me back onto the ground, helpless. i looked up and was sitting in cube after cube, wondering when the party had stopped and if i would ever trek a mile through the snow to get to campus again.
for me, the first huge tip-off was the day i realized i actually LOVED wine and preferred it over any sort of hard liquor. in college, you don't sit around and drink wine on girl's nights. in fact, you rarely have girl's night because everything is so co-ed and ridden with a big mash up of penis and vagina that there's barely ever the thought of "hey! we should totes go out, just girls, and dance!" it's moreso like "hey! we should totes go out, just girls, and dance and all find someone to hook up with and then run off with said hook up and all text each other the night afternoon around 3pm claiming we're still in the hook up's bed and we're pretty much in love!" the extent of your wine-tasting pallet doesn't see past zinfandel franzia and slapping the bag until you're AT LEAST 20 and then you move slowly into super cold white wine (it's like juice!) and THEN, when you're freshly graduated and at your first, real job, you turn to red wine for comfort and never, ever look back. you realize that white wine is more or less fat in a glass and really only desirable when it's 90+ degrees outside. every other time, it's red. and stained mouths. and treating yourself to a bottle that exceeds $10 once in a while to remind yourself how poor you are and how much better $20 wine tastes. and you know shit's SUPER real when you finish an entire bottle on your own on a friday night sitting at home in your apartment. this is what i like to refer to as the point of no return.
another huge tip-off is the first time you leave the bar by 11pm. this is unheard of before you're 23. i say 23 because we all try so hard that first year out of college from 22-23 to keep up our shenanigans and spend every weekend partying like all you have on monday is class from 1115-1215. when you're a good year into the real world, you grow tired of standing around the same bars. 3/4 of the people there are strangers to you anyway and it's not like your school's marching band is gonna show up at midnight and give you a second wind. your week was long - you're tired. how you're tired from literally sitting in a cube for 40 hours, you don't know, but you are and you wanna go home. the thought of "what am i doing? just drinking to drink? it's not like i'm gonna meet anyone. this is so stupid. i need sleep" hits you on top of the head like newton and the apple and, almost in a daze, you pay your bill and slip out and get a cab home BY YOURSELF. the fear of FOMO no longer exists inside of you - all you want is your bed and 12 hours of solid sleep. THIS, my friends... THIS means you're a fucking adult.
probably the most noticeable sign that you're growing up at a rapid pace is your sudden and morbidly depressing weight gain. no longer can you blindly shove food into your mouth and complain about being bloated for a day until your stomach magically flattens out again. no. now, a piece of pizza almost instaneously becomes a noticeable triangle-shaped lump on your right thigh. no longer is it hilarious that you finished an entire personal pizza from papa john's in one sitting and washed every bite down with ranch - it's fucking gross and sad. you pretend to laugh about it with friends, but inside you're dying. you question every meal you indulge in. the no-brainer answer of fries over a salad is suddenly an internal battle that makes you want to say FUCK IT and order an entire plate of just fries for dinner to prove a point. but you can't. and you won't. never has not being naturally anorexically thin been so awful to endure. working out during college was child's play - now, if you really do want that burger for dinner, you are already planning on how you're gonna work it off tomorrow at the gym with an extra set of burpees and it SUCKS. what a terrible way to live life.
another horribly awful sign that you're an adult besides your metaoblism giving you the middle finger is realizing you've overdrawn your bank account and are up shit's creek without a paddle. i have to say i'm proud of me because only twice in the last three years has my money siutation gotten so bad i was unable to make rent and had to offer my parent's my left testicle and right arm in exchange for monetary support. these were easily the two most humiliating moments of my life thus far. having to call your father when you're 24 years old and explain that you maybe might have acted like a true $30K millionaire over the past month, dropping dollars on meals and clothes you can't afford is pretty embarrassing. don't look at me at like that - you know you've been in the same boat at one point or another. this, on top of waking up one day and realizing you've used all your savings to get yourself out of completely irresponsible situations... yep, you're a stupid, young adult and you have GOT to get your shit together. STOP SHOPPING AT WEST ELM AND ANTHROPOLOGIE! YOU CAN'T AFFORD THEM AND THEY CAN'T AFFORD YOU. 
and the very last sign i consider a true transition into adulthood?
running errands.
all my life, i wanted to grab my mom's steering wheel and swing us off the road when i got stuck "running errands." i dreaded it. i dreaded getting in and out and in and out of the car, handing my mom coupons, pushing the cart for her, getting so bored and so hungry that i wanted to hide in a clothing rack and cry until it was time to go home (age 14 or 15). now? now i have to dedicate full saturdays or sundays to getting all the crap done that i don't have time for during the week. i have to actually write down all the errands that need to be run and plan out what the most efficient route is in order to hit them all in order. it's not a lame excuse anymore when i decline my friends' offers to hang out with "i would, but i HAVE to go to target and walgreens and then run by home depot later." IT'S TRUE. IT'S NOT A LIE. IF I DON'T GET IT DONE TODAY, I'M JUST GONNA HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER TIME TO DO IT WHICH COULD BE IN ANOTHER WEEK! it never stops when you're an adult. there's ALWAYS something to be done, and if it's not one thing, it's another. how is this even possible? i'm a young girl, living on my own. it's not like i have a family to provide for and get diapers for. but, somehow, here i am - running mother f'ing errands and having to return my own cart to the cart return, all the while wanting to throw it and drive off in a frenzy.
it's hard, y'all. being all grown and stuff. that's why it's so important to always remain just a quarter bit immature. otherwise, you're probably really boring and not my friend.
have a great weekend and i hope you get all your errands done!!!
- emma
