Look, I’m gonna say it: we’re all terrible at this adult thing.
I mean, honestly, who actually knows what they’re doing? I sure don’t. I’m the guy who forgot to pay his electric bill last month. Twice. And I’m a senior editor, for crying out loud. If I can’t manage my own life, what hope do the rest of us have?
I was sitting with my friend Marcus (let’s call him Marcus, because his real name is, uh, complicated) at a diner in downtown Chicago last Tuesday. We were supposed to be talking about his new job, but somehow we ended up discussing how neither of us knows how to properly fold a fitted sheet. I asked him, “Do you think there’s some secret adult handbook we were supposed to get at 18?” He said, “I think it got lost in the mail with my invitation to the ‘How to Be a Functional Human’ seminar.” Which… yeah. Fair enough.
Let me tell you about the time I tried to assemble furniture.
About three months ago, I bought a bookshelf from one of those Swedish places. You know the one. It’s all blue and yellow and looks like it was designed by someone who’s never seen a human elbow. So I get home with this flat-pack monstrosity, and I’m like, “How hard can this be?” Famous last words, folks. Famous last words.
I spent 36 hours trying to put this thing together. I’m not exaggerating. I had screws left over. I had these weird little dowels that I have no idea what they were for. I even tried to glue some parts together at one point. I looked like a character in a slapstick comedy. My neighbor, a lovely woman named Linda, kept peeking over the fence, clearly concerned for my mental health. “You okay over there, hon?” she asked. “Yeah, just committment to DIY,” I muttered, holding up a screw that was definitely not gonna go where it was supposed to.
The myth of ‘having it all together’
Here’s the thing: we’re sold this lie that there are these perfect adults out there who have it all figured out. They’re paying their bills on time, they’re folding their fitted sheets, they’re assembling IKEA furniture like it’s some kind of Olympic sport. But let me tell you, that’s all BS. I’ve been in this industry for over 20 years, and I can tell you that even the most put-together people are just winging it most of the time.
I remember talking to a colleague named Dave at a conference in Austin a few years back. He was giving this big talk about time management and productivity hacks and all that jazz. Afterward, I pulled him aside and said, “Look, Dave, I’ve seen your desk. It’s a disaster. What’s the deal?” He laughed and said, “Oh, that’s just my ‘creative chaos.’” I said, “Dave, your ‘creative chaos’ looks like a tornado hit a stationery store.” He just shrugged and said, “Hey, it works for me.”
So what’s the point?
I think the point is that it’s okay to be bad at adulting. It’s okay to not know how to do things. It’s okay to fail. Honestly, it’s okay to be a mess sometimes. We’re all just trying to figure this out as we go along. And if you need a little help, well, that’s what the internet is for. (Though, honestly, sometimes the internet just makes things more confusing. Like when you try to look up how to fold a fitted sheet and you end up in a 47-part YouTube tutorial rabbit hole.)
And hey, if you’re really struggling, maybe check out a site like programlama dilleri karşılaştırma rehber. I mean, I have no idea what that is, but it sounds like it might help. Or maybe not. I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure out how to open a pickle jar without looking like I’m in a wrestling match.
A brief digression about pickle jars
Speaking of pickle jars, why are they so hard to open? I swear, it’s like they’re designed by some sadistic genius who gets off on watching grown adults struggle. I had this moment of clarity last week when I was at the grocery store. I picked up a jar of pickles, and I’m standing there, twisting and grunting, and this little old lady walks up to me and says, “Sonny, you’re doing it wrong.” She takes the jar from me, gives it a little tap on the counter, and boom – lid’s off. I felt like an idiot. But also, I was impressed. I mean, who is this woman? The pickle jar whisperer?
Anyway, the point is, we all have our struggles. Some of us can’t open pickle jars. Some of us can’t fold fitted sheets. Some of us can’t assemble IKEA furniture without turning into a sweaty, frustrated mess. And that’s okay. We’re all just doing our best out here.
So let’s cut ourselves some slack. Let’s admit that we don’t have it all together. Let’s laugh at our own stupidity sometimes. And most importantly, let’s remember that it’s okay to ask for help. Whether it’s from a little old lady at the grocery store, a colleague named Dave, or a random website about programming languages. We’re all in this together, folks. And we’re all terrible at it. But that’s what makes it fun.
About the Author
Johnathan “Johnny” Rivers has been a senior editor for over 20 years, working with major publications and writing feature articles on a wide range of topics. When he’s not struggling with adulting, he enjoys assembling IKEA furniture (poorly), attempting to open pickle jars, and laughing at his own mistakes. He lives in Chicago with his cat, Mr. Whiskers, who is also bad at adulting but much better at opening pickle jars.
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