I'm sure you all are shocked by my sudden not-taking-two-thousand-years-to-make-a-post behavior. Good for you because you get an amazing (obviously) post. Bad for you because you're only getting one because I'm totally bored.
Does anyone else have the Monday blahs?
Coincidentally, this is exactly what I'd look like if I was a single mother struggling with alcoholism during the '20's.
Thus, my mind is currently occupied by the reasons I both hate and love being an adult.
Reasons to LOVE being an adult over the age of 21:
*I can legally smoke if I want. It's too bad I have never smoked. How am I to assert my adulthood to the other adultified people?
What my boyfriend cancers...I mean...smokes.
*I can legally purchase and imbibe alcohol, and if I get carded, HA, in their faces. I'm legal.
Nummy, nummy, nummy!
*I live on my own (meaning with boyfriend) and do not have to clean the dishes nor sweep if I don't want to. My house, while not filthy, isn't exactly OCD clean so take that as you will. Although, I did scrub the kitchen floor on my hands and knees yesterday. Fun times for a pregnant lady.
*I have a boyfriend and my parents can't make me dump him, not that my parents would ever do that to Tyler.
*I can have all the sex I want: loud sex, quiet sex, rough sex, bathroom sex, kitchen sex, living room sex and I don't have to worry about anyone but my dog hearing (he's probably traumatized for life).
*With the above, I can have sex without worrying that the boy I'm with will be charged with statutory rape. This is a good thing.
*I can make my own life choices and decide what's best for myself.
*I can vote for or against any person running for public office.
*I can eat pizza and icecream for dinner if I damn well want.
Reasons to HATE being an adult over the age of 21:
*I can legally purchase DRANK, just increasing the chances of my DD status becoming a nightly affair (Note: I don't drink).
*I have to do adult things like clean my own house, cook, wash clothes, etc. I. NEED. AN. ADULT.
Oh Spock! That face! That body! You drive me wild!
*I have to pay for all my shit: food, clothes, house, car, utilities, etc.
The best kind of dinner after paying all the bills.
*I have to get up and go to work every weekday from 8:30 to 5:30.
*I have to file my taxes and pay all those stupid government bills throughout the year.
"As you can clearly see, you actually owe US money. Looks like you'll be getting an audit, not a vacation."
*If I get sick, I have to take myself to the doctor and pay my co-pay.
*I can't pretend to fall asleep in the car and have my daddy carry me inside. :'(
The best feeling ever!
You can pretend you didn't do this, but you're lying. You're either lying or had a sad, sad childhood.
*I can't reasonably explain to my boyfriend why I feel like watching Care Bears.
Dark Heart! You are the biggest douche of my childhood.
*I can't play an imaginary game outside without the local authorities arresting me for suspected drug use.
"Ma'am, have you been under the influence of illegal drugs this afternoon?"
"No officer, I was just playing corporate lawyers. I'm prosecutor this time."
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
"But, the jury is almost finished deliberating."
"Ma'am, I will not ask you again."
"All rise for the judge, you too Copper."
~ Bzz! That is the sound of the taser electrocuting me ~
*I can't get into a fight without running a chance of being stuck with a criminal record.
*It is not okay for me to point out someone's bald spot.
I did do that when I was little. I think my parents were mortified.
*I can't ride the kid's rides at amusement parks.
*Playing on a playground is definitely a way to get put on an FBI watch list.
This is what people will see me as. I do not want a lisp.
*Climbing your neighbor's tree is not acceptable. It may actually get you arrested for peeping.
And I'm sure I can increase these lists, but my brain has short-circuited.
Damn that looks good enough to eat.
Also, KELSEY. Yes, I'm talking to you. Post something lady. Anything.
As for you questers? Well, we'll see how quickly either Kelsey or myself can post again.
No comments:
Post a Comment