Generate a Stand-Up Routine

Alright, so I’m at that age where my phone knows me better than my family. My mom will call and ask how I’m doing, and I’m like, “I don’t know yet, I haven’t checked my phone.” My phone is very confident, though. It’s like, “Based on your recent activity, you are sad at 11:47 p.m. and hungry for no reason.” And it’s right. I don’t like that level of accuracy from an object I can drop in a toilet.

Phones also track your steps, which feels judgmental. It’s not encouraging, it’s just reporting facts. “You walked 1,842 steps today.” That’s not helpful. That’s just snitching. I didn’t ask for a witness. And it always compares you to yourself on your best day. Like, “You usually walk more.” Yeah, that was before life happened.

I’m also realizing adulthood is mostly pretending things are normal when they are absolutely not. Like when someone says, “Let’s circle back to this.” There is no circle. There is no back. We are never talking about this again. Or when someone says, “Just checking in.” No you’re not. You’re reminding me you exist and that I forgot something.

Grocery stores are where I feel adulthood the hardest. When you’re a kid, you go down the cereal aisle and it’s exciting. As an adult, you stand there reading nutrition labels like you’re studying for a test you didn’t prepare for. You’re like, “Okay, this one looks fun, but this one seems responsible.” And then you choose the responsible one and still feel guilty, because it doesn’t taste good and you know it.

I also love how grocery stores assume I’m hosting a dinner party at all times. Everything is sold in quantities that suggest I have friends coming over. I don’t. I’m buying this cheese because I had a long day and I deserve it. Please stop judging me with family-sized portions.

Social plans are another thing. When I was younger, I could make plans for Friday on Monday and be excited all week. Now if you ask me what I’m doing Friday, I’m like, “I don’t know who I’ll be then.” That’s a different person. That version of me might be tired. They might hate people. You’re asking too much.

And finally, sleep. Sleep is now the highlight of my life. Not even good sleep. Just the idea of it. I’ll cancel plans and be like, “I’m going to do nothing,” and that feels like self-care. I used to dream about success. Now I dream about waking up and not being tired. That’s the goal. That’s the dream. Everything else is just background noise.

Thank you, you’ve been great.