This is a post about Becky.
Becky thinks she’s figured out what “growing up” means. It makes sense to her now, why most “adults” describe it as an increase in the amount of responsibility and shit. It’s not just about that, though, there’s more.
She thinks the big idea behind growing up is accumulating stress and anxiety. She never quite feels tired exactly when she needs a break. Instead, she usually starts to feel tired when she’s completely out of energy. It’s like when she’s got enough fuel in the tank to last her through the commute home, but only enough money to fill her tank up enough for her commute there-and-back tomorrow. What a beautiful metaphor.
She thinks that’s what growing up really is about. It’s why “adults” have shrinks, and why every 20-something feels like they need one. Whatever “rest” she gets after work doesn’t even begin to help resolve the issue of how “burnt out” she feels. Working 9-to-5 with just 24 days of paid vacation doesn’t really put her in the state where she knows she has enough time to have “me” time and regroup. She’s just riding on a nearly-empty tank day in and day out.
She runs out of half her daily reserve of will power by just getting out of bed, another 40% to get herself out of the house and on her way to work, 5% to keep calm and not lash out at the annoying stranger who gropes her butt on the metro, and the remaining 5% is somehow supposed to get her through the day.
Of COURSE she’s not going to be able to kick her smoking habit. Smoking is her only excuse to get away from her desk more often than she should and shut her brain down for a couple of minutes, because if it’s not off, it’s going full throttle.
She’s thinking about work, about how messy her apartment has gotten, about how she’s going to spend her next paycheck, how big her ex’s new girl’s butt is, and about how the government has really fucked the people over with this whole capitalism shindig.
She drinks on Fridays because that’s what people do, and she doesn’t want to be a social outcast. She spends most of Saturday nursing a hangover with some fast food and comfort movies. She spends Sunday doing at least the most basic chores while being angry at herself for being a total slob on Saturday. She’s forgotten what “lazy Sundays” are because she hasn’t had one in months.
She manages to somehow get herself in bed before midnight and finally gets a solid 8 hours of sleep. That’ll give her some much needed rest; restore her willpower.
Half of it’s gone in when she gets out of bed.
She’s a working 20-something who needs a shrink.
She’s an “adult”.
Good job, Becky. You did it!