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I need an adult

When I moved out on my own, I knew there were things I’d have to adjust to compared to living with my family. I’d have to remember to lock the doors, turn off the lights, grocery shop, things like that.
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When I moved out on my own, I knew there were things I’d have to adjust to compared to living with my family.


I’d have to remember to lock the doors, turn off the lights, grocery shop, things like that. I’d also have to get used to being alone, which didn’t happen often when you lived with four other people.


The biggest things I’ve come to dread as being an adult are mundane things, and one of those activities popped up the other day.


A few months ago, I switched from an air mattress to an actual bed thanks to my best friend selling me hers. (Thanks, Peggy!) 


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With this upgrade came the dreaded task of folding a fitted sheet, one of the few responsibilities that I don’t like when it comes to laundry.


My mom and I have a running joke that she’s a witch because she can fold a fitted sheet. Which was supported during an episode of Netflix’s Grace and Frankie, when Frankie claims only witches know how to fold fitted sheets.


While I struggled with the stupid sheet (it won, and ended up in a heap on the floor), it got me thinking about an article I read a while back about classes being offered to millennials to teach them things like how to fold a fitted sheet.


For the record, millennials are people born between the 1980s, the late 1990s, to early 2000s, also known as Generation Y. They’re not the group that ate Tide Pods, that was Generation Z, but there’s often confusion between the two.


When I read the article, I laughed. I’m pretty sure that was what the intent of the article was for but it got me thinking.


Why is there such a need for classes like this that multiple places have offered them? Why is there seemingly a large group of adults who don’t feel confident in their ability to cook for themselves, handle a budget, and fix things around the house? Is there ever a point in life where we feel like adults, and not kids pretending?


As recent as this week, I turned to my mom when I wasn’t sure about the appropriate present for a wedding I’m going to.


I guess no one taught me to be an adult, and I’m going to struggle with folding a fitted sheet until I get superpowers.


Until then, I stumble my way through adulthood like the rest of my generation has been.




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