2007-09-05
being an adult
Lately I've been fixating on how much "being an adult" blows. Like sure, you can stay up as late as you want and eat M&Ms for every meals and abuse various substances with relative impunity-- but who has the time/energy/metabolism/money to do all of that? Most of my time goes to work or school. And more depressingly, most of my money goes to things I need just to subsist.
Today's destination for wasting my paycheck on mundane househould items was Walgreens, otherwise knowns as "The Store That Makes Me Want To Shoplift." (I don't really know why that is...something about the lighting maybe?) I grabbed some soap and granola bars and the like, then walked home crying silent tears over my checking account balance.
If there's one ostensibly good things about all this, it's that its made me much more conscious about not wasting and/or ruining my things. I ration out paper towels and laundry detergent like they're gold and fly into a frenzy of rage at anyone who even thinks about spilling on the carpet. The more expensive the item, the worse I am. Since I put the UO bedding on, I have been downright Hitler about what activities are allowed to take place in the bed. The "hangover gorge" has been placed on the DO NOT list. Fluids of the non-bodily kind are merely restricted to anywhere but the comforter specifcally, smoking is to be approached with the utmost caution, while menstruation is banned entirely and means sleeping in the bathtub with bunched up newspapers for warmth.
And that's how I live. Previously issued invitations to visit still stand, just be prepared for me to spray you down with Lysol at the door.
zebrasaur at 9:40 p.m.
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