Don’t Make Me Adult Today



In honor of the rash of “don’t make me adult today” memes and Facebook status updates that have flooded my various newsfeeds, and to which I relate all too well, I have been inspired to explore in writing the major headaches and minor inconveniences that all fall under the vast and oppressive umbrella called “responsibility.” This sincere plea, which is a daily one for many, myself included, is uttered when the myriad things you have to do and deal with unfortunately take precedence over catching up on Ray Donovan. Although it is asked of an invisible decision-maker who will never actually answer, we all ask it each day, when our alarm clocks go off, again as our moods deteriorate precipitously on the way to work, and once more when bills are due, and on into infinity. The anxiety starts small, with trying not to get food on your clothes when you’re out to eat, and then goes off the charts, with things like trying to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life, as if there’s one correct answer.

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