Sometimes, I think that I'm making progress at the whole "being a grown-up, adult, responsible, real person" thing. Seriously. I have a job, I'm registered with the GP, I (sometimes) get my 8 hours sleep. Heck, sometimes I even eat vegetables. True story, Ma.
Then things happen. Things that knock me into reality, and make me realise just how far I have to come before I can call myself a grown-up. Sometimes they're big things, like last month, when my ceiling sprung a leak, and my flat flooded. I realised, at that moment, that I had no idea what to do. Emergency plumber? Forget it, I wouldn't know the first thing about where to find one, and anyway, I'd rather spend my money on shoes. Instead, I rustled up a couple of buckets (practicality, thy name is Mona) and called my Mother. Because mothers are superheroes, and a big hole in the ceiling and a huge puddle of water on the carpet won't phase them, will it?
Sometimes they're silly things, like the other day, when I went to get my weekly shop. Food, to feed me for a week. The cupboards were bare. It was time.
I was a bit spaced out, totally forgot about healthy eating, and just kind of wandered around Sainsbury's, grabbing whatever took my fancy. The result?
To feed myself for a week, I purchased milk, bread, peanut butter, yoghurt, cookies, ice cream, and Vogue.
Brilliant, Mona. Nice work. Really.
When I was sixteen, I truly thought that by twenty two (twenty three next month! Eek!) I'd have life figured out, and be really grown-up. Whoops. Error.
I'm sort of in two minds as to whether this is a problem. In one respect, I do acknowledge the need to take control of life a bit more, and take care of myself. Do practical things. Get an emergency plumber's number. Buy actual food when I go shopping. Maybe even some exercise?* But then I think about it, and I can do other, less practical, but much more fun things. I can now play Zooey Deschanel's Hey Girl on the ukulele. I make a pretty mean carrot cake, I can lick my own elbow, and I hold my own against almost all boys at Tekken, Fifa, and COD. And actually, twenty two isn't that old, is it? Lots of time to develop practical life skills. So I may as well focus on the fun stuff, for now.
I'm sure that by the time I'm twenty five, I'll have life all figured out, and be really grown up.
I'm also pretty sure that when I'm twenty five, I will regret the above statement.
*Calm down Mo, let's not go too wild here!