When I was ten, I traded V. C. Andrews books back and forth with my older cousin. At the time, I didn’t understand all the “adult stuff” that was in them, but I did learn valuable lessons, such as “never underestimate what people will do for an inheritance” and “if the only thing you’re eating all day is powdered donuts, you’re probably going to get sick.”
In the same way, I hope there are some kids out there getting very excited about this next section. It’s not X-rated (sorry), but it is informative, and reading it now will make your lives vastly easier upon entry into the world of parking meters and prostate exams.
Part of winning at life is dealing with shit that suddenly demands urgent attention. A three-year-old who steps on a rusty nail at the playground typically has a teacher, parent, or babysitter there to calm them down, dust them off, apply the antibacterial ointment, and make a follow-up appointment for a tetanus shot. When you’re an adult and these things happen, you have to deal with it your own damn self. (Note to own damn self: Add Neosporin to the grocery list.)
But a rusty nail, unpleasant though it may be when introduced to your foot, doesn’t have to put the whole Game of Life in jeopardy.
I know, it sucks to feel like you finally mastered your daily routine—fastball up in the strike zone—and then life throws you a curve. Luckily, everything you’ve learned so far about better time management, prioritizing, and impulse control has prepared you for this shit.
You’re already more efficient, right? You’re not running late all the time. Your days are better structured and therefore more relaxed. In fact, you’re hitting fastballs out of the park in your sleep—which means you have more time, energy, and money to spare for the other pitches life hurls your way, be they curves, sliders, or a really filthy changeup.
Such pitches may include:
We’ve talked about the daily dollar, about understanding how much you spend (and on what), in order to rein in your expenses and beef up your savings. But what about the occasional costs, like tux rentals or parking tickets? These don’t appear in the daily or even monthly calculations because they are so infrequent, but you can’t let their infrequency render them somehow less urgent when they do occur. And just because you haven’t trained yourself to settle a parking ticket every day doesn’t mean you should be any less swift and decisive when it appears twice a year on your must-do list. People who have their shit together don’t pay late fees.
The Doctor’s Appointment
Maybe you’re a rare specimen of genetic perfection and see no need to keep up with annual physicals and the ritual sadism of dentistry, which is fine. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But someday, you’re going to be told by a medical professional that you need to “get that checked out” (or worse: “taken care of”), and that appointment is going to hang over your head like a guillotine blade until you just fucking MAKE IT. Yes, it’s annoying. Yes, it may be an awkward call to place if you happen to be in an open-plan office surrounded by coworkers. And yes, the prospect of getting your bum palpated by a middle-aged version of your cousin Steve is unappetizing (at best). But for the sake of your health—not to mention your must-do list—you have to duck outside, make the call, budget the time, and show up. People who have their shit together don’t suffer needlessly.
The Expired Passport
Do not pass “go.” Do not hit the Canadian border before you realize your passport is out of date. Get your shit together.
The Thank-You Note
Hi. I’m an adult, you’re an adult, let’s act like adults. If someone does something nice for you, say thank you. If they do something extra nice for you, say thank you in writing. The good karma you get from the universe by sending a card is worth the three minutes out of your day it takes to write one and stick it in the mail. But most especially, if you’re on the receiving end of a passel of presents—wedding, baby shower, graduation, whatever—get your shit together and write the thank-you notes before you even start using your gifts. I wrote all my wedding thank-you notes in the airport waiting to board the plane for my honeymoon, which meant every subsequent margarita came with a guilt-free rim.
The Annoying Chore
For me this typically involves going to the post office, which is a rare errand in a world ruled by email and Jeff Bezos. I hate the post office. Nothing good has ever happened to me in a post office, and in fact, I have cried there on several occasions. But you can’t let your abject hatred of the US Postal Service stop you from having your shit together. Because if you avoid annoying chores long enough, you’ll wind up spending $32 to overnight Priority Mail your grandfather’s two-dollar birthday card, and that’s just stupid. That is the antithesis of having your shit together. You still had to go to the post office and your dillydallying cost you thirty bucks. Jesus, Sarah, get your shit together.
Whether the preceding has been Intro to Adulting or simply a refresher course, I hope you found it useful. Acting like an adult is part and parcel of having your shit together, and it’s the only way you’re ever going to get out of your parents’ house, stay out, and then become one of those people who tells kids how hard everything was “back in my day.” Did you know that my father picked blueberries for a nickel a bushel? Well, he did. And my first job was working for a comedy website where we had a dart board and a singing plastic fish mounted on the wall, BUT we had no free fountain soda, so there was still room for me to move up in the world.
As there is for you.