Nowadays, everyone makes jokes about adulting.
Basically, adulting is a verb used to describe any action that fulfills an adult responsibility, like paying bills, cleaning the house, or doing yard work.
“I wrote out my monthly budget today. I did so much adulting.”
“I had to schedule a bunch of doctor’s appointment. Going to pat myself on the back for such good adulting.”
“I actually planned out my meals for the week. Look at me adulting all over the place!”
I make jokes all the time about adulting and about how good I am at it. I pay my bills, I drink eight glasses of water a day, and I get up using only three alarms. I’m such a good adult.
Well, some top tier adulting happened in my life this past Monday and it wasn’t a joking matter. I’m talking first degree, premeditated adulting.
On Monday, I drove up to Spokane and bought a car.
Two weeks ago, while Michael was coming back from Moscow, someone at a stop light threw their car in reverse and backed right into our 1997 Crown Victoria. The other driver managed to take out our entire left headlight, and when I say take out I mean you could see right through the hood of the car into the engine and out the bottom. I could see the blacktop through the hood of the car. It was bad.
Thankfully, the driver was very kind and admitted fault so we got a full insurance payout for the accident. We just had to wait to hear how much we were getting before we could do anything.
Well, Michael and I both considered repairing the Vic. We could probably find an old Crown Vic in a junkyard and pull the headlight for cheap, but fixing the body damage was going to be expensive. We thought it might be better to invest in a new car. Something actually made in this century.
Looking back, this is when we started doing the premeditating I mentioned before.
Two weeks went by and we hadn’t heard anything from our insurance. Finally, on Monday, they called back and said “We’re going to take the car and give you enough money for a down payment on something else. We’ll pay for a rental for five days.”
Well shit, we thought. Time to kick this into high gear. We grabbed our rental, a car that was so fancy I felt uncomfortable being in it, and drove to Spokane to find ourselves a used Prius.
Before heading out, Michael and I had discussed our requirements for our new car. We wanted something made in the last ten years, we wanted it to have cruise control, we wanted it to have less than 100k miles on it, and we wanted it to have no accidents on its record.
Phew, I need to take a minute. Even writing out all of our requirements is a lot of adulting. I need to take a break and go eat a pint of ice cream because no one can tell me not to. Have to remind myself that adulting can also be fun.
Long story short, we found the perfect car. A 2010 Prius for a reasonable price with low mileage. Score.
Since we brought our new car home, I’ve felt giddy. Every time I look out the window, I see our new car and I smile. I feel so cool and so very adult.
On the other hand, I feel light-headed. Looking back we went out, found a car, and agreed to pay for it for the next five years. What have we done? We had no idea what we were doing. What if we screwed up big time? Will anyone tell us if we did?
I joke every single day about how much of an adult I am, but this week I’ve never felt like more of a child. I feel like a five-year-old playing house who just mimics whatever she hears her parents say about buying cars.
Do I even properly understand cars? What does “low mileage” really mean? What exactly is a car loan? Do I even really understand any of this?
I feel like I’m the victim of a very long, elaborate prank. I feel like someone’s going to jump out and say “got you!” I have no idea what I’m doing and I feel like I shouldn’t be held responsible for my actions because, like I said, I have no idea what I’m doing.
I guess that’s the true definition of adulting. Bumbling around, bumping into things, and hoping for the best.