Thursday, January 10, 2008

omyfuggingah growing up stinks

Growing up stinks part I:

My internet connection is iffy at best, so when I try to do things like banking and account transfers, I should really double check before assuming everything's good.

See, what happened was, I tried to make it so my student loans would be automatically taken out of an account that has money in it as opposed to an account that has $40.72

But I didn't double check, so I was just on the phone for an hour with the *Most Patient Man Ever* trying to tell him that all I want to do is give the loan people the money. But they were all, no, we're going to keep trying to take it out of the account with no money as opposed to the account with money. So I got frustrated and yelled "I want to PAY YOU, I WANT TO GIVE YOU MONEY, WHY ARE YOU MAKING THIS SO HARD?!" and then I also said "I know it's my fault, I know I messed up, but I just want to fix this." which is a phrase I've become really really really familiar with lately. And then, at the end of the phone call I said "I'm sorry I was a jerk."

Growing up stinks Part II:

Why is it so hard to be a responsible adult?

Why was I better at all of this when I was 22?

Why do I feel like every year that goes by, I get less and less able to function as a human being all on my own?

Growing up stinks Part III:

I know I say this all the time, but I think I'm really done with Chicago. It just doesn't feel right here. I also know that, every time I get the urge to move, I know it's going to get harder and harder and lonelier and more U-Haulier.

Growing up stinks Part IV:

Last night, I made myself a really delicious salad and as I turned to look at the kitchen table where a glass of water and the new issue of "Glamour" were waiting for me, for the first time, I got really depressed about eating dinner alone.

Growing up stinks Part V:

Bob got sick and I had to take him to the vet today.

While I waited for him to get x-rays and blood tests, I had to face the reality that an adorable little living being relies on me and me alone.

Growing up stinks Part VI:

Last night, while I was trying to fall asleep, I heard a noise in my kitchen, that I now know was probably the radiator, but last night sounded like an angel of death coming to get me.

I had to keep my eyes open for an hour until I came to terms with the possibility that I might not wake up. Morbid, I know, but it was 2am, and I wasn't thinking straight, and, at the time, the only possible explanation for my inability to sleep was that I had some kind of psychic sensation that death was at my door! But as I am presently writing this post, we know that psychic sensation to be false.

Growing up stinks Part VII:

There is no such thing as a small mistake anymore.

Growing up stinks Part VIII:

The pressure is on to stop dreaming and start doing.

Growing up stinks Part IX:

Consequences are everywhere!

smoking = cancer
yummy food = heart attack
tv = loss of brain cells
booze = liver faliure
sleeping in = get shit for it every day at work
sex = babies and/or herpes
travel = no money in bank account
pretty dresses = no money in bank account
cute kitty cat = vet bills

Growing up stinks Part X:

I have become That Woman who yells at customer service agents on the phone and then after they help me I have to say, "I'm sorry I was a jerk." Because seriously, That Woman is someone I never thought I'd grow up to become.


1 comment:

nc catherine said...

Oh yeah in spades, triplicate, to the nth degree, the growing up stuff stinks. And I am so old I so should not be whining about growing up, but REALLY, there was some level of magical thinking (I guess) going on when I was a kid (dinosaurs had only recently stopped roaming etc) that when a person hit X age then Y happened and there was never any of this damned confusion and waffling and secondguessing and impatience and eyerolling.

So yeah I hear ya.

Altho I, like your blogger pal mealsIhaveeaten, have not encountered the angel of death at 2AM, I have had the oddest notions of not being alone in the psychic sense....

Good luck with Bob, a move or not...And sometimes, it is all so fabulous and glorious one cannot believe it. And that is the stuf that gets me through the ohmyfuggingah stuff.