Well, I guess this is growing up

September 2, 2023

To be perfectly real with you, this is how my Saturday has gone:

I woke up around 8am and immediately jumped into a hot shower a couple of minutes. I turn the water to cold for like, one minute, just enough to give me a punch in the face without making my skin feel it’s getting freezer burnt. I dried myself off and gave myself a NuFace treatment which I still don’t know if it’s actually doing anything, but it makes me feel like a wellness goddess/beauty guru, so I’ll keep it in the routine. I drank my 50oz water before making my coffee like I do every single day, your body is like a plant you know, it needs water. If you haven’t drank water yet today, go drink some damn water.

I drank my coffee black as my soul and pitter pattered around on my phone for approximately two hours. Checking social media, shopping on Amazon for stuff that I don’t ACTUALLY need, but like I DO need, but maybe not right now. I moved those items to my “save for later” list of over 600 items and then move on to the next online retail outlet. “I really need new shoes, my feet are killing me” I said to myself before browsing different websites for new sneakers. Granted, my feet probably hurt because I walk over six miles per day, which comes next after I fiddle on my phone for hours. Some days I read a few pages of a book in the morning before entering phone-world, today was not one of those days.

I went for my morning walk. I always take two walks per day: one in the morning and one in the evening. During my morning walk, I contemplated on what I would do today. I am all caught up with work from my WFH job, laundry is caught up, house is clean enough for my standards, but I am too broke to go shopping.. Zach is sleeping during the day because he’s been working overnight shifts doing security work… What do I do? My playdate is not available. I could call a friend, but no friends are ever available for last minute plans. We’re all nearing 30 if not already there, most of my friends are mom’s, and even I need plans well in advance. I figured I could go out for coffee and go thrifting by myself, that sounds fun, but why does everything have to involve money? I just spent $20 stocking up on coffee and even bought a small bag of beans from my favorite local coffee shop. I can have Kubal coffee at home. Indeed, I could go thrifting, but for what? I live at home with my parents, so anything else I buy for a house I do not have yet will pile up in my bedroom and collect dust.

I am bored and nostalgic for a lost childhood. I mourn the death of my teenage years where everything was easier (even though at the time it SO did not). Lately, I’ve been wanting my dad to go shopping with me or SOMETHING just to get out of the house and out of sweats. I always say that I don’t want to just go out and shop and spend money, but in adulthood, what else is there? Why is that our idea of fun? Quite frankly, if I don’t go out and shop, I still sit inside and shop online. And I buy a lot of clothes for someone who just wears gym clothes and sweats every day.

Having a WFH job is great don’t get me wrong. I love working for my mom’s business; I obviously have the most flexible and understanding boss in the world. It just feels very mundane doing the same thing every day. The same routine every day, every week: the same morning routine you just read, gym three times per week, errands on gym days like post office, groceries, gas, bank, etc. Maybe I need a hobby.

My motivation for photoshoots has plummeted. I am SO over summer. I can hardly tolerate the bugs on my daily walks outside. My legs have bruises and bumps up them from the viscious blood-thirsty mosquitoes. But also, Zach has been doing overnights, so he’s not available to help me shoot during the day, which is fine, the bugs suck anyway. I think I need a vacation.

This is how I felt last year before my mom and I went to England. I had a massive creative block and I am feeling that again. Social media tells you, “rest is okay, you deserve rest, you do not need to be a part of hustle culture”; Social media also tells you, “it’s you standing in the way of your dreams, work smarter and harder.” So how can I allow myself to feel I am protecting my peace when society tells me “you’re not working hard enough”?

Here’s the damn truth (okay, it’s my opinion, but it’s true to me ok): Your twenties are fucking rough. Your thirties are fucking rougher. According to my parents, your 40s and 50s suck too. And if you talk to my 98 year old great grandfather for five minutes, he will tell you he’s ready to die. My dad is 56 and has never used a sick day in his life. My mom has started several businesses and watched them rise and fall. My great grandfather lived through the Great Depression and saw the invention of fucking toilet paper. Yes, toilet paper. As a kid, he wiped his ass with old Sears catalogues. Life is hard in general and you’re allowed to fluctuate between hustle and rest. You’re allowed to change your mind and be unsure of whatever it is you want to do. I am not the same person I was a year ago. I am not the same person I was a month ago. We are constantly evolving. This is not some sorry excuse for myself either, I’m not trying to make myself feel better. Honestly, I just needed something to do. So here we are.

I recently have been making efforts to reach out to childhood friends, just to find what I already claimed: we need plans weeks in advance. Remember when we could just come home from school and call our friend on our curly cord telephones and wait for mom to get home to bring us over for an afterschool playdate? I can’t tell you how many families I have nannied for who don’t allow play dates on school nights. What’s up with that? I’m not a mom, but after working as a nanny for eight years and also having a degree in education, I can safely say that children need social interactions.

But this isn’t about parenting styles. This is about adulthood and making and maintaining friendships and social interactions. Just this morning on my walk I thought to myself, I want to go to the NYS fair and be a kid and go on rides and play games.

I hate the fair.

I also said, “I want to pack a pb&j in a ziplock bag and go to a water park with my dad” (my dad specifically because my mom is out of town for the weekend for work).

I hate water parks. I didn’t even like them as a kid.

One thing I have noticed is that I become extra nostalgic for my childhood in the summer. I always associate summer with youth. All of my best childhood memories happened in the summer because of the summer camp I went to from when I was five until I was thirteen.

But I won’t do these things because theres adult connotations attached to such activities. The fair is dirty and expensive. Water parks are dirty and expensive. I avoid the sun like the plague and such activities require sunshine, ew.

For my great grandfather’s 98th birthday a few weeks ago, he wanted to go to the zoo to see the baby elephants. It just goes to show that no matter how much we age, we still have a childlike wonder inside of us. I loved taking grandpa to the zoo, we had so much fun, but now there’s the adult thoughts of “I really hate seeing these animals bred in captivity just to be stuck in captivity” which ruins the fun of the zoo.

All of this makes me really look forward to having a kid of my own some day. I truly feel that having a child forces you to become a child again and try seeing the world through there eyes. I got glimpses of that life just from nannying, which I always miss. I won’t be ready to have a child of my own for a couple more years though. I need to get out from my parents home and I’d like to be married first. That isn’t due to any religious beliefs or anything, I just want to have a wedding and travel before I try breeding.

I am hoping that my longing for childlike wonder will be fulfilled once I have a child of my own, but for now I am stuck in the trenches of adulthood during inflation where nothing is making any sense. I went out to go thrifting today and turned right back around and came home to write this instead.

And now it’s time for my second walk.


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/By Alice Marie ROose