As I was heading home earlier tonight, I was thinking about the small table in my kitchen. Okay not so much the table itself, but all the crap that is on top of the table. I mean, gum wrappers and People magazine aside, there are a lot of bills and to-dos on there. I started to think about adulthood. I'm an adult I think (yes?), and I knew this immediately after I started to get bills in the mail. Remember when mail used to be semi-exciting? Like christmas time but year round, with fun snail mail and colorful envelopes? Well VSAC (represent student loans whoop whoop), Banknorth, VISA, National Grid, and there's more of course....they all got together and decided to make mail a drag for me. And let's face it, for you. What I'm trying to say is, there are many reasons maturity is a good thing. I mean, I'm always using the term, whether for a friend who has a really long job title or for a friend who is really good at decorating. So mature. That's a compliment, right? Wouldn't it be great if we could be mature without the mature responsibilities that come with it? E.g. bills?
Well whatev. There are some great things about being mature. There are some not great things about being mature. Here are some examples that I have for you to ponder.
Why maturity is kind of a bummer:
*Bills. Explanation not needed for a second time.
*Grocery shopping. Okay so comparable to others out there, I really don't mind grocery shopping. I mean, what's the purpose of grocery shopping? To get food!!! And food, my friends, is hands down one of my faves. Also, my theory is if you go to a really really busy grocery store; one that is NEVER quiet, say Market Basket in Danvers for example, you just have to have the right perspective before going in. Listen, I literally turn off the engine, give myself a pep talk to be patient and love like Jesus loves, and then I put my hands in the middle of the imaginary huddle, yell something like "intensity!" or "patience!" and I'm out the door. AND another key is to read a magazine in line. Because it always takes ages and ages. If you go to a grocery store that it NOT like that, congratulations, but how boring, right?
*Cars. You car is the kind of thing that is NOT appreciated when you have it and it's running like it should. BUT, the second it stops working, or something is missing, or it is hit, or it hits something, etc, etc, everything changes. Car insurance, popped tires, being put on hold for one reason or another, that freak-out feeling you get when the gas light is on, oil changes, the list goes on.
*Cuh-leaaannning. Oy. I need to learn a thing or two about cleaning. I'm really good at cleaning my plate. I'm good at cleaning my ice cream bowl. I'm good at cleaning my teeth, and I'm one to take showers. But cleaning my apt? I'm really good at doing dishes, after they pile up. That's about it. I am probably sulking when found cleaning. But it's just something you have to do if you want to be mature.
*You have to be professional at a job and keep a lot of your sarcastic and crazy personality pent inside. Like, there's a time and place for toe touches. Yes, I have been known to do a couple at the front of my math classes, but it's not like I can do it all day every day. Dagnabbit.
Why maturity is NOT a bummer:
*Pretty bookcases. Friends come over (I'm not mature enough to do this myself; let's not get too ahead of ourselves) because I have some pretty DARN mature friends that make my apt mature. My kitchen chairs and bookcase are suddenly works of art.
*Crock-pot. Do I need to say more? No. Maturity IS a crock pot. Especially ones that are lovingly named (mine's The Red Wonder, what's yours?).
*You can buy your own couch. And then call Gentle Giant, after paying them a million dollars too much, to have them bring it upstairs since you can't do it with the help of your father and mathematically-gifted friend. And then you can become big big fans of the great people at Gently Giant. No but seriously. I want to be a Gentle Giant groupie.
*Cute apt. You can have and pay for and love and adore your own cute apt. I fo sho have that covered. I love and adore my own cute apt.
So. Call it what you may. I mean, call it maturity, because that's what it is. But enjoy it, revel in it, and also sometimes shudder because of it. Because at the end of the day, if you're not mature and you don't take care of them, you will have a pile of bills, a magazine, and gum wrappers that need to be taken care of.
PS They are all still sitting on the kitchen table. And will probs be there until Sunday afternoon, my decidedly official get-things-done day for this week.
2 comments:
Preach it, girl. :)
LOVE IT!! :)
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