Man, I feel like an adult
I’ve recently begun to feel like a real, proper adult. I’ve noticed a slight shift in the way I think and view the world. I do funny things like remember to buy sugar before we completely run out and to water the plants more than once every blue moon (you’re welcome leafy friends). The prospect of not being tucked up in bed by eleven scares, me and I’ve found myself possessing a sudden interest in household products like linen baskets and crockery.
I long suspected that the universe had forgotten about turning me into a grown-up. In the universe’s defence, I am 4’11 and wear too much eye-liner so could very easily be mistaken for a moody teenager. However, I’m beginning to think the universe has suddenly remembered me and rushed over while I was sleeping to endow me a real adult conscious.
I wonder if this means I’ll finally understand the elusive thing I hear people call “savings”?
I’m quite excited to be a grown-up. When I first rocked-up to twenty-six, I was dubious about what lay ahead; I didn’t feel ready to start worrying about interest rates or figuring out what pension scheme I apparently contribute to. Now, that doesn’t seem so bad. Maybe I’ll emerge from this lock-down like a phoenix from the ashes: an organised schedule in one hand and a knowledge of how to cook more than one dish…
Although I have just burnt my toast, so maybe not.