Not to toot my own horn, but there are a lot of things I'm good at; Cranium, convincing people I agree with them while actually making fun of them, finding pictures of cats on the internet, etc. I am less good at many other things, one of which, is being an adult.
I often times drink wine with no pants on in my apartment. My garbage bag leaked some substance that smelled like a diaper full of indian food a few weeks ago, and I got around to cleaning it out from the bottom of the can yesterday, And it smelled rank and I KNEW where it was coming from but chose to ignore it like a Mafia wife ignores her husband's business ventures. When I take off my clothes I throw them on the floor, which in all fairness, only happens because my hamper is overflowing with nearly a month's worth of backed-up laundry. A human who would do these things does not seem like an individual capable of interning for a U.S. Senator. Or graduating Magna Cum Laude. Or really, these habits don't seem like those of someone who can tie her own shoes.
One of the most paralyzing aspects of being an adult for me, is paying bills. I don't mean having to earn enough money so as to afford expenses, I mean, physically the act of paying bills. Tonight, I got home and decided I would sift through the pile of important looking mail items I have hereto been ignoring. I have ignored them because I get overwhelmed if I handle these items as they come. I'm terrified I will throw away my insurance bill as junk mail (actually happened) or sign up for a new predatory credit card because it said to on a brightly colored flier. I need to set aside time, get my computer, checkbook, and cell-phone in front of me, and decipher my mail items as if the fucking Rosetta stone was sent to me by mail every month. Only then, when I've decided what actually is important, am I able to begin to think about taking necessary action. P.S. most of my bills are paid online, I only get "reminder" notices in the mail--so this shouldn't be rocket science.
Tonight was my bill paying night. And I realized in the middle, I needed more checks--the free ones they give you when you open an account, you know the variety pack with Scooby Doo and buck-hunting scenes, had finally run out. I tried to reorder online. I was directed to a 1-800 number because there was some error. When I called the number I was prompted to press 2 for Spanish and then forced to listen to eight more options--"For a technical problem on the website, press 7. For account information, press 4"-- none of which even closely matched, "a box popped up when you were trying to order more checks because you have to do menial shit like that now that you're 23." I was honestly overwhelmed at this point. By an automated phone call. There was no customer service option. I picked something about a lost or stolen debit card and just told the poor customer service rep to transfer me.
The night did not improve after that call. Two more seemingly simple tasks went awry and I ended up crying on the phone to my dad while repeating, "I can't. I can't. I can't," between sobs. Ah, maturity.
I'm pretty convinced I have a mild and rare form of mental retardation that inhibits me from being a responsible adult. Some people graduate college and within weeks, BAM!, have spaghetti in jars on their kitchen counter. I forgot to put on deodorant today and noticed when I whiffed myself out in the car.
So, if any of you twenty-somethings share this rare and mild form of retardation with me, please let me know. I think we should get a support group going.