So in honor of another screwy tangent my brain took me down, here are my top 5 weird things I do as an adult.
1. Discuss cleaning products.
I never thought I’d be the type of person to go hog wild over a laundry detergent. But holy smokes, I freaking love Persil, and I have asked my husband to smell laundry fresh from the washer. I’d feel worse if he didn’t mention it on occasion too. We’re both old. It’s okay.
2. Talk about death on the regular.
I can’t tell you how many conversations take a turn into “Did you hear who died?” For real. I thought as a kid that those convos were reserved for people strolling the halls of the old folks’ home. But no. From my favorite celebrities, to classmates, to family, I swear, someone is always dead. It’s damn depressing, but also gives some mad perspective.
3. Buy practical gifts.
When I was a kid, I was the fun gift giver. I thought random crap was the top notch buy. Now, as an adult, my baby shower gifts are always first aid kits, and my favorite diaper rash cream that is the best chub rub on the planet. Boudreaux's Butt Paste. Yes. You do want some.
4. Get intrigued by minimalism.
As a child it was all about quantity, and if I’m honest, as a younger adult too. But me, and a lot of my peers are talking more about streamlining, because we realize having all the stuff in our house means we now have to clean it all. Refer to point #1.
5. Give far fewer fucks.
Being an adult means paying your own way in life, and many people like me understand our time is currency as well, and we’re not going to spend our limited resources on the bullshit. Life is too short to not spend it doing something to spreads joy. Be it joy for us, or for someone we love, or a complete stranger. I’d rather spend five minutes hiding dollar bills in the dollar tree for kids to find, than pay for an over-priced coffee. If you’ve never done this…I dare you to try it and not smile.
But I also don’t stay in places I’m not wanted. I don’t have conversations that aren’t productive. And I don’t keep reading books I’m not enjoying. Fuck it. My time is worth more than the cash I forked over for a story that doesn’t resonate.
What do you do as a grown-ass person that you could have never predicted as your twelve-year-old self? I’d love to hear about it.