The moment that I realised I was turning into an adult – not in the legal sense but in the psychological sense, was not when I paid my first electricity bill, or when I committed to private health insurance. It was at 3am on a Sunday morning (Saturday night?), aged twenty six in the bathroom of my share house.
It hit me like a freight train as I began to, very drunkenly yet methodically, remove my makeup, cleanse, exfoliate and then apply moisturiser with the underlying sense that I suddenly cared about my future (skin and life choices).
When I woke up the next morning, struck down with a combo red wine / gin hangover (I know, I’ll never learn), I began to come to terms with the gravity of the situation. I had stumbled in my front door, removed my shoes before climbing into bed (rare) and put a degree of effort into ensuring that my skin remained supple, youthful and gunk free. I also flossed. I was looking in the mirror at a fully fledged actual giving a shit adult.
In my hung over state, I began to worry. Would I start discussing superannuation choices at dinner parties with my successful friends? Would I start listening out for that ticking biological clock, suddenly yearning for the pregnancy that I’d never previously wanted? Would I consciously begin to seek out life insurance and funeral plans rather than hanging up on telemarketers who even dared mention the topic?
I wasn’t keen to grow up and start giving a shit, but the benefits of staying a complete babe with damn fine skin were mighty appealing.
However, to balance it out I would take these ten further steps to avoiding true adulthood. Feel free to heed this advice if you too fear responsibility…
1. Commit to the application of glitter nail polish at least once every six months.
2. Never lie about enjoying gardening / house work / dinners with the in-laws. Admit it’s a chore and move on.
3. Laugh at fart jokes (good ones, not shit ones…oh wait. Ew).
4. Only order salad when the salad is appealing – i.e. contains drool worthy goats’ cheese (section 4.1: admit that cheese is life and bits of your body that jiggle are good because they symbolise the prior consumption of cheese).
5. Eat “breakfast for dinner”– semi regularly. Do not judge your peers for doing so. Be proud of them.
6. Never spend exorbitant amounts on decorative cushions – they may be beautiful but serve very little purpose. Expensive pretty things are reserved for people with mortgages and good credit ratings. Or people who can scam their way out of debt – a skill I am yet to acquire.
7. A ‘family’ pizza can be consumed by a single human – be okay with this. Same applies for ‘family’ block of chocolate. In fact, generally admit that the term ‘family’ is arbitrary.
8. Knowing how to make a signature dish sans recipe is important but given the choice I’d rather mentally retain the lyrics to the entire back catalogue of the Spice Girls major hits. Ditto all the dance moves from the year seven dance class where I grooved to S-Club Seven.
9. Mates before dates and…additionally, come up with a catchy way to say “I will always choose my amazing, brilliant friends (both male and female) before my career.” – Dollars are useless if there isn’t anyone to share the good times with.
10. Hello, my name is Alicia and I am announcing on the internet that there is a pink stuffed hippo that sleeps in my bed every night. Her name is Sydney-Mae. If I lost her I would probably cry. I am okay with this.
Cool so we get it, just because I manage to look after my skin even after three (seven) shots of tequila; this doesn’t mean that I am a “grown up”. My driver’s license says twenty six but I still need someone to gently pat me on the back while I cry because after all these years PMS is still incredibly traumatic (hey Mum, fancy driving down to Adelaide for a visit?).
I am not the ‘adult’ I thought I would be by now and actually, I’m more proud of that than words can even express.