Like I said in yesterday’s post, I turned 25 this month, and it’s strange because I still feel like I’m in high school. It’s not like I’m clinging to youth or anything, in fact, I’m excited to turn 30 in the near future. I’ve found that every six months or so I become a little less of an asshole, so I’m hoping by 30 I’ll be a real hip woman in charge of her own destiny, getting her clothes tailored, not eating as much processed foods, the whole thing.
But for now, I can’t tell- am I an adult? Let’s look at the evidence:
ADULT: I have aged out of eligibility to be on The Real World because apparently 25 is too old to catch syphilis in a hot tub while you experiment with your sexuality. What if I’m a late bloomer, huh, MTV?
NON-ADULT: Still too young to be a Real Housewife. Not a girl, not yet a woman.
ADULT: I pay rent with my own money for a townhouse with a garbage disposal, yes, garbage disposal.
NON-ADULT: I recently cashed in an animal crackers jug full of change at a Coin Star so I would have drinking money.
ADULT: I told a co-worker how old I turned on my birthday and he said, “25! You can get married now!” Isn’t that wild? I mean, at this point, if I had a kid in a high school bathroom stall no one would give me a reality show. They might call DCF because what am I doing having a baby in a high school bathroom stall? but 25 is a completely appropriate age to get married and have a child. In the Mid-West.
NON-ADULT: No matter how old I am when I have kids, always exclaiming “this is children raising children!” is a very charming thing I plan to do.
ADULT: Another thing about kids- I’m at least mature enough to know at what time a toddler should be in bed and not at the West Hollywood Halloween Carnival among half a million people. That would be all of the times. When I went this year it was after 11pm and I was very surprised at the toddler to screaming drunk people ratio.
NON-ADULT: At 8pm on a Sunday I locked my keys in my car and waited until 1am to ask AAA to get them because I was late for karaoke. Somebody, quick! Give me a baby to raise! I might accidentally lock them in the back seat, but I promise I’ll fish them out after last call!
ADULT: I got my oil changed all by myself this week!
NON-ADULT: I didn’t get my oil changed all by myself until I was 25 year old.
Welp, I am no closer to an answer, but at least I have enough self awareness to limit the amount of times I say the phrase “quarter-life crisis.” That counts for something, right?
