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.