======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
RIP my youth.
Graduating college may suddenly launch you into Real Adulthood™, but actually getting older is a quieter process. The kind that creeps up on you like a silent killer, unnoticed until you’re slathering on under-eye cream and it hits you— holy shit, I’m old. Here are some of the moments I had that exact realization.
I fall asleep on the couch during movies (and get mad at the person who wakes me up, insisting I was never asleep to begin with). Growing up, my mom used to do this all the time and I would laugh at her, not understanding how anyone could feel tired from an activity that literally requires zero energy. Now, falling asleep during Episode 1 of an HBO show and waking up hours later on the couch, in the middle of Episode 6, is practically a routine.
I realized that there are right and wrong ways to load a dishwasher. This was another thing my mother did that bewildered me. My sister, father, and I learned to do a half-assed job fake loading the dishwasher because my mother would inevitably redo it no matter how hard we tried. Recently, I caught myself chastising a coworker for how they loaded the dishwasher because “you can fit way more in there and none of the dishes are gonna get clean stacked that way.”
I understand having a mattress preference. As a small child and well into college, I could sleep on anything. Floor, ground, yoga mat, whatever. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed it getting harder and harder to sleep on anything that isn’t a bed or occasionally, the couch (see above). To make matters worse, though, I recently took a trip and had to sleep on an unfamiliar mattress. The mattress in my Airbnb was a perfectly fine mattress, but I found myself waking up almost hourly because I couldn’t get comfortable, and then my lower back was sore for three days after.
Speaking of things that last three days — hangovers. Full disclosure, I’ve always had fairly bad hangovers. I have a weak stomach. But in college, a three-day bender would result in a mildly uncomfortable next morning. Maybe some scaries or a light case of nausea, but nothing like what I encounter now. If I don’t perfectly hydrate (16-ounce per alcoholic beverage) while drinking, I will have a terrible, weekend-long hangover.
I have the thought “I need more throw pillows” at least once a week. I’ve always been into fashion and décor, but my younger self thought more than a throw pillow or two was excessive. I didn’t understand the point of pillows you don’t really use. Now, I find myself absentmindedly fantasizing about having many throw pillows in a variety of colors and sizes, and I’ve actually made that fantasy a partial reality. And I see no signs of stopping any time soon.
I have become a “no shoe” household. Another thing I used to mock, unless said shoes were obviously dirty. But then I got an ivory colored (faux) cowhide rug and a beige couch and came to the realization that the world and people/pets are literal cesspools of germs and dirt. Suddenly I found myself using chalkboard markers to write “Please remove your shoes, thank you!” in that basic girl cursive font that’s used at every wedding reception ever.
I got stressed out about buying a dish drying rack. Two tier or one tier? Do I want stainless steel or plastic? If I get white, will it show dirt? Furthermore, does white even match my counters? These are real questions I was plagued with while purchasing something you use to rest clean dishes in while they drip dry. The worst part? I still haven’t decided on one.
I lusted over a $60 mop for a year and got super excited when I finally got it. To be fair, it was a hardwood floor cleaning kit. But to make matters worse, I used polishing the floors as a reward for completing other work. Plus, I sent a picture of this mopping kit to a handful of friends with the caption “Christmas in July!” and my mom responded, “LOL, you’re weird.” Boom, age shamed by my own mother.
My birthday is just another day. And this year, it was on a Tuesday. When my coworkers asked me how I was celebrating, I literally responded, “It’s on a Tuesday.” That said, my friends did end up talking me into going out and taking a few too many tequila shots, for which I suffered—you guessed it — a three-day hangover.
My curated ads are all for wedding registry or childcare. I don’t look at these things normally, so there’s no algorithm to blame here. The internet is just telling me what it thinks I should be doing based on how old it thinks I am.
In spite of all this, though, there are a few habits I have that give me hope for holding onto the last shreds of my youth, most notably:
I still can’t bring myself to eat the rind on brie cheese. Oh, and I cut the crusts off my sandwiches, too. .
Image via YouTube