Am I Adulting yet?

When I was growing up I kinda had this idea that you’re an adult as soon as you turn 18 and by the time you’re mid twenties you’d probably be in that life long relationship, have your life long career job, own your own place and definitely have your shit together.

You then turn 18 and realise you’re definitely not an adult yet and still need to run a sick day past your mum…

I went to uni at 19, a year later than most. No, I didn’t have a ‘gap yah’ … I spent the year working three jobs to afford to go to university; teaching p.e, retail and hospitality. I definitely felt older than the 18 year olds coming straight from school. Okay so three years pass at uni, you’re definitely feeling more independent. But an adult? not yet.

I graduated with a First Class degree in Dance and wanted to pursue a career in performing. Life had other plans. 4 months after graduating and I had my second heart operation and lived at home with my parents for a year. I worked in an admin role because I couldn’t do anything physical fro a while. I resented it because it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing straight out of uni.

Aaaaaaanyway, a year later I moved to London to live the dream. I’d just started a dance company with a friend and I was doing TV and modelling work. As much as I now had real rent to pay to a real Landlord, i.e not my mum, I still didn’t feel like an adult. In the industry i was working in TV companies had up to 90days to pay you. So you literally had no idea when you would be paid, it could be a week later or three months later. I wouldn’t call it adulting if you don’t know when your next pay cheque is coming in.

Fast forward a few years, I’m 26 and working full time as a fitness instructor, personal trainer and fitness model. I was essentially paid to bop around with people who were paying to bop around. I worked with several brands via social media. Sounds pretty cool hey, it was. I was in my chosen career, why didn’t I feel like an adult yet?… I was still living in a house share.

When I turned 26, I was still living in a flat with FOUR other people. I still felt like a student. Later that year, after three years, I moved out of that flat and into a flat with a friend. From a 5 bed flat to a 2 bed. This felt more like adulting but not quite. I’d known her for 12 years and her parents owned the flat, she’d lived there 4-5 years or something and it very much felt like I was just living in her home. I’m not sure if that makes sense. Rather than us living there together it felt like I was just existing in her space. I wasn’t really allowed things out in the living room or anything. I remember adding some books to her shelf and stack… they didn’t last there long. They got moved and hidden… BOOKS! A year later, her parents want to sell the flat because she’s moving in with her new boyfriend. I got asked to move out via text message and I had 4 weeks to do so. Like I said, we’d known each other for 12 years…I found somewhere to live and moved out within a week. The day before I moved out, I put a bag of my belongings in the living room because my room was full of bags and cases. I went out for the evening and when I came home that bag was wedged into my room meaning I couldn’t even get to my bed now. (it was a very small room btw) It was one bag of my belongings in the living room the night before moving out and that wasn’t allowed. I won’t talk about the rest, It got nasty quick shortly after that and wasn’t dealt with in a very adult way. Needless to say we aren’t friends now. Major adulting fail.

So at 27 I found myself back in a flat share living with strangers. Something I never thought I’d do again. No living room. Just my bedroom and navigating my way around when the kitchen would be free because one of the other girls would cook allllllllllll the time. It was only a small kitchen with enough room for one person to be cooking. I ended up deliveroo-ing or staying at my boyfriend’s. I was paying £800+ pcm to not really be living there and when I was there, I couldn’t use the kitchen. This felt far from adulting.

I’m 28 now. Not living in London. Not working in the fitness industry. Not in a house share with random strangers from the internet. I feel like I’m finally having a go at this adulting thing and from here on in you’ll be joining me on that ride.

Char

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The coffee wanker evolution

One minute it’s Nescafe Original… you know the one, glass jar, red lid, the darkest brown soil looking instant coffee…. then it’s a double vent soya vanilla skinny basic bitch latte…. then it’s an oat milk flat white from your local artisan coffee shop.

You feel me?

I feel like instant coffee is very entry level to coffee. Then you discover Starbucks and go for the sweetest thing because it’s all new and essentially a dessert in a cup. It no longer actually tastes like coffee. So you then find yourself somewhere in the middle. You’re still in Starbucks but instead of a dessert latte you opt for a regular latte. That bitter, wonderful taste of coffee is back.

You like it, but you know there’s more and you want in.

*To be honest I’ve found the next part to mainly be in London*

You’ve been commuting to work for a while now and you’ve been noticing this coffee shop. There’s always a queue and the cups are unbranded and very non descript. But you keep walking past just peering through the window on your way

One day the intrigue gets too real and you decide to give it a go. But what do you order?You’re familiar with the americano, the latte, the cappuccino but what’s this flat white thing you can see?! No, can’t handle too much newness in one day. You play it safe ” a latte please”. Then they ask what size you want. Instead of your regular- small, medium, large or small , regular everything is in ounces. I don’t know how many ounces I want, you think. You pick the middle number and play ‘safe’ again. Now they’re asking what milk you want. “Just normal please”. Again, safer. You didn’t even know you could make milk from oats?!

The coffee comes, there’s a fancy pattern in the top of the milk. Their medium is definitely smaller than a Starbucks medium. You take a sip, it’s almost too pretty to drink. Holy shit thats strong. But boy is it good!

It’s strong, it’s bitter, the milk is silky.

Uh oh, you’re hooked. Welcome to the club you’re now a coffee wanker. Up next, the flat white.

Char

*all posts written slightly tongue in cheek and in jest* Image: mskfp.com

Adulting? What on earth is that?!


“The practice of behaving in a way characteristic of a responsible adult, especially the accomplishment of mundane but necessary tasks.”
‘it feels really good to take a step back from adulting and have someone else cook dinner for me’ – Oxford Dictionary

I posed this question to instagram the other day. I only got a few responses but it was a funny mixture for sure.

From sexual acts to gardening to working to slavery to it just being too. much. effort.

it would seem this adulting thing we’re all trying to do is all a bit of a tangle. Like that drawer or box of cables we all have probably full of old camera leads, old phone cables and t.v scart leads before we got fancy smart t.vs. Adulting appears to be a direct representation of trying to untangle THAT drawer.

OR

When I was at school you would open ‘paint’ on the computer, draw a load of squiggles and then click to fill the spaces with colour. That finished picture is pretty much what adulting looks like in my head.

So here i am about to share with you all, my attempt at adulting…

Char