Welcome to The Stumble is Real

Becoming an adult is special kind of treat, and when I say “special,” I mean that the progression from adolescence into adulthood is like a super-dare. “Here, [name], have this lollypop! No, you don’t have a choice. It will be delicious on the outside, but when you get to the center, it will either be filled with chocolate-y goodness, or stuffed with puss and maggots.” And that’s kind of what growing into an adult is like … I think.

Look, I’m not a fan of the term, “adulting.” On the contrary, I think it’s a stupid verb that lazy, entitled teat-suckers use to joke about the difficulties of “growing up.” Oh, man, I’m already using a lot of quotes in this post to articulate my dismay. In any case, I tire of whiners who have trouble wiping their own bums and taking care of business because there is this new standard to which people subscribe that they are owed something once they – oh, I don’t know – turn 21; graduate from college; get their first job; get dumped from their parents’ health insurance; move out? Really, just insert any one of those life events into the sentence and it will apply. Look, lots of people are crawing about being adults and what being an adult means, and I hate them. Every. Single. One. Still, I can kinda relate, and as that’s the case, I got to thinking: “Man, there must be a way for me to communicate the struggles of adulthood, or life, as the case may be, without sounding like a complete priss.” *waves hands enthusiastically at computer screen* Well, welcome to my blog: The Stumble is Real: A blog for misdirected, confused and underachieving adults.

The metaphor is strong with this one, so I’m going to keep going. My indoctrination into adulthood has been a lot like this weird, 19th century boat race of sorts (and yes, this metaphor is presented to you compliments of my fascination with 18th and 19th century whaling). So, here I am, on my four-masted bark that’s to be crewed by 30, but I’m all alone, floundering about and freaking out. What the absolute bloody hell am I doing? I don’t even know how to sail. So, I do my best with what I’ve got, but I’m slow as all get-out, and I have no idea what my heading is, but I bear down and delve into choppy waters under a darkening sky. I push forward in a stressful, dead-end job; I navigate homeownership with the jauntiness of a newborn giraffe; I pay bills on a prayer; I foster my talents only in my own mind because I don’t have time to devote to such frivolous things as novel-writing; I contend with illness and family struggles with little support, and each morning, as I wake up no closer to my destination — just bobbing about in the great, wide ocean of life — I think, “Goddammit, this is hard as hell. Does any of this get easier? When do I make it to home port where things feel normal again? And really, is anyone else out there feeling the same way?”

Meanwhile, all around me are these fully-crewed, fine vessels, and they’re settin’ stuns’ls, crushing life with ramming speed. On one bark is a woman half my age pushing out her second kid; on another is an even younger specimen with a budding book deal. There are a few others over there, on which are successful go-getters who have landed dream jobs. This one’s building a palatial home; that one’s moving to a metropolis. This one’s relocating across country, and that one is getting a Ph.D. This one’s flipping homes, and that one’s on her 85th international vacation this year. How the freaking hell-of-alls do these people have everything figured out?! Dude. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one without a plan — just treading water and waiting for the storm to clear so that the sun or something can show me the way.

Thing is, I am 99.9 percent certain that I’m not the only one who feels like this. There are lots of disenchanted, misdirected, confused and underachieving adults out there, and they’re struggling to figure it all out just like me. Well, this blog is for all of them, and maybe even for some of those lovelies who have it all figured out. My aim here is to dialogue out the struggles with which I contend as I smash through the waves of age and societal expectations. I expect that I will definitely offend some people (my delivery is not always nice, but honest). Sorry in advance? I also hope that I can encourage a laugh from my readers and a few head nods like, “Yeah, man, I totally get that!” Additionally, I intend on covering other topics, such as writing, recreation on the cheap, and how healthy outlets contribute to offset anxiety attributed to the mundane and stress. There’s going to be lots of content here; some may apply to you and some may not, but that’s OK. At the very least, I can promise that it will be entertaining and dare I say, well-written? *winks*

I’m over word count, of course, but this is my very first post. Naturally, I expected that it was going to be more focused, but like my adult life, this blog is a work in progress. Check back weekly for updates, and of course, I look forward for your comments as I would really enjoy for this to be an interactive experience.

Cheers, friends. Welcome, and thanks for reading. Stay jaunty.

3 thoughts on “Welcome to The Stumble is Real

  1. Congrats on getting this blog off the ground! Proof that you’re doing something right. I love your voice and look forward to more in the future.


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