The story here is short. The internet had a wave of “I don’t want to adult today. Don’t make me adult,” ish.
Everyone was like “Hehehe adulting, amiright?”
Later, some people were too cool for friggin’ school and wanted to bitch about “Adult is not a verb. Grow up and get a job, lazy millennials.”
And then they jerked-off in their parent’s basement to their own high school senior portraits.
Well, you wanna know where I am, right now? I am sitting on the floor of my bedroom. I am looking at the mangled pile of lumber that should have been a HEMNES dresser hours ago. I am drinking the only bottle of beer in the house because I woefully underprepared for this task. And you know what I don’t want to do right now?
I don’t want to adult.
A minute ago, a goddamn moth flew onto my keyboard and startled the actual shit out of me. Actual, literal shit. I am now tasked with finding it and killing it like I am the Liam Neeson of moths. Otherwise, I will not be able to sleep tonight. I’ll be waiting for it to flutter into my ear and fill my skull with a million baby moths.
And I don’t feel like adulting that shit right now.
There is a load of the kids’ laundry in the dryer. It has been there for two days. It needs to come out, because I need to wash my own crap. Then I need to put my crap in the dryer because I am not a 19th-century Italian lady with a clothesline strung from my adorable window and across the alley. The dryer is currently full of a million and one tiny socks, that I will need to match and distribute to the corresponding child.
I do. Not. Want to adult that for three hours of my life. Those are three hours of my life that I will never get back. It is highly reasonable that I don’t want to be an adult right now and sort the goddamn tiny socks.
Being an adult sucks. It sucks out loud. We spend our days crossing menial shit off our stupid lists, only to add the same damn things back to our lists in the too-near future. So if I want to use a stupid not-verb to give myself a little giggle while my soul is being crushed by the weight of assembling a piece of furniture from IKEA? You bet your ass I’m gonna.
Because I am an adult and that means I can do whatever the hell I want. Sometimes. While shirking my responsibilities.