Being in your early twenties is a weird age because technically you’re and adult and have all the legal rights that come with being an adult, but when it comes to the practical knowledge of adulting, you’re basically stuck. Obviously, some people are better at it than others, which just adds to the weirdness. Currently, I have a 23-year-old who successfully got a mortgage and bought a house, and a friend who works for minimum wage at their high school job. I definitely lean more towards the latter.
Every once in awhile, my lack of knowledge of the adult world becomes exceptionally apparent. For example, I made myself tuna salad for lunch today and it took nearly and hour and a half because I have zero experience in the kitchen, to the point where chopping an onion is an extremely daunting task.
Usually, if I have to do something particularly responsible or adulty I’ll recruit someone who has a higher adult score than I do to help me out, but sometimes these people are too busy investing in stocks or working their full time jobs to help. In these cases, I turn to whoever is close-by and available. This happened last night when I had an appointment to look at a possible house to rent, and my friend Chris volunteered to go with me so that I didn’t have to go alone.
Now, Chris is a great guy in so many ways. He’s the first person I turn to whenever I need to vent about somethings or get a dumb matching tattoo or talk strategy about one of our favorite reality competition shows. However, he’s not that much further along on the adulting front than I am. The best example I have is that once the two of us sat at Aston Diner for almost two hours because the waitress forgot about us and we were both too afraid to ask for the check. So yeah, we’re both pretty useless sometimes.
Chris and I set off last night full of optimism and slight anxiety. Luckily, I knew exactly where the house was since my best friend grew up down the street, so we had no trouble finding the place. I’m all about the “fake it ’till you make it” life so as soon as we parked I confidently hopped out of the car and strolled up to the front door. On the way, Chris was remarking about how it looked like there were toys in the window and how you’d think they would clean it up a little bit more when it’s on the market. At this point, if you’re a certified Adult you’ve probably already realized what me and Chris haven’t…
We knock on the door and wait for Dan, the real estate agent to open the door. On the phone, Dan had mentioned that he had been running errands all day so he was just wearing shorts and a t-shirt rather than is normal real estate garb. No biggie, at least we would know what to expect. When the door opened, Dressed-Down-Dan was no where to be found and instead a woman who looked to be at least 8-months pregnant stood there looking very confused while a small child played on the floor behind her. Still unsure of real estate protocol, I forged ahead and opened with “Hi, we’re here to look at the house.”
I know, I know…what is wrong with me? I think some part of me just assumed it had to be the right house, because if two strangers were on my doorstep and I wasn’t expecting anyone there is 0% chance that I am ever opening that door. Also, you know that part of the brain that steps in sometimes when you undergo intense pain? Like when athletes break something but can’t feel it because of the adrenaline or whatever. I think the adrenaline of actually knocking on someone’s door was flowing so strong I wasn’t thinking clearly or able to process the intense anxiety accidentally knocking on the wrong door would give me.
As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, this nice pregnant mom was not in fact trying to rent her house out, but she did helpfully point us in the right direction and was super chill about the mix up. After we saw the actual house that was up for rent, we realized just how dumb we had actually been. For one thing, there was a “for sale” sign prominently placed in the front yard, as there ALWAYS is when a house is for sale to make sure that potential buyers do not go to the wrong home. In addition, the front door was wide open and Dressed-Down-Down was clearly visible waiting to let us in. Plus, there were no toys in the front yard or visible through the windows, since the house was empty like the realtor said it would be. So, all in all our adulting average definitely went down a little last night, but at least we will be much more aware of these things next time we go house hunting.
Unfortunately, learning as you go seems like the only way to truly become a certified Adult, no matter how slow and painful the process is. For now, it seems that Chris and I are just destined to continue adding to the chronicles of being an Adult in Training.