I keep seeing a meme along the lines of, “No one ever told me that being an adult means having to decide what to fix for dinner every single night for the rest of your life.”
You know what else they didn’t tell you? That you’d also have to shop for that food, and to pay for it.
And for extra credit, that if you’re the main cook in the household you’ll have to listen to other people’s complaints/criticisms regarding the food.
However, once you pass the age of 18 (or in some cases, never) you’re supposed to start acting like an adult. And being an adult isn’t always fun.
It can be fun, and it can even be great. But no one tells you that it’s also by turns terrifying, irritating, annoying, depressing, occasionally gross and often overwhelming.
They say that the trouble with life is that it’s so damn daily. Ditto adulthood. No one warns you that being an adult means a daily parade of stuff that sometimes you are not equipped to face, from the hazmat quality of an overloaded diaper to the daily drumbeat of, “How am I going to keep the lights on, the kids out of jail and my retirement secured?”
Am I complaining? Not really. Being an adult is what adults do. But sometimes you just want to be seen, as the kids say. You want someone to notice when you’re on the ragged edge, and you want that someone to say, “You know what? Siddown and eat this cupcake. I’ll handle things from here.”






