When I was about 16 or 17, I, like most teens at that age, thought nothing would be cooler than my parents going away on vacation without me. Leaving me in the house with a couple hundred bucks, just like in the movies. I'd have a party, order food, and just be a downright fool for a week or two.
That never happened in my household. That would NEVER happen in my household. To this day, my dad hates leaving me at home alone when I visit. To be fair, I am pretty destructive...
Nonetheless, I wanted this so badly. Not that I had enough friends, or enough "cool music", or enough non-awkwardness to have said house party, but the possibility was amazing to me. Reality was, they didn't go away, we all didn't go away that often, in general. That was what I wanted, though.
Today, I know what an idiot I was. How ignorant and naive and clueless!
I haven't lived with my parents for about 6.5 years now and it turns out, I'm not very good at taking care of myself. My eating habits are bizarre and lacking, for one. It turns out, if I try to live on only peanut butter for a week, I'm not going to feel great. You get to the point where you are willing to kill a baby for a carrot or a little bit of an apple. Anything but peanut butter.
I also don't really know how to do laundry. No one ever told me. That and I never listened when roommates and random people tried. ahem. So, I've given up and just hand-wash stuff. It's probably dirtier when I'm done, but no one has to know.
I will admit, I am pretty proud of how well I've kept my dog and all my foster pets alive throughout the years. No dog or kitten or puppy has died under my watch! Feed, walk, mush face: check! I've got it down.
My latest realization of just how bad I am at all this life stuff was when I sliced my finger. My mom bought me a brand new kitchen knife since I've been attempting to cook more lately. The package said it would never become dull, and it wasn't kidding. Each time it slices through my skin just as seamlessly. Usually it's not too bad, just a tip of a thumb, or a paper cut to the ol' pointer finger. However, this slice was pretty bad. I wasn't sure it would stop bleeding. An hour and countless paper towel sheets later, the bleeding subsided. Only due to putting pressure on the wound. I don't own any antibacterial stuff or band-aids or even tape. So, now it just sits on my finger looking all bloody, purpleish, and swollen. Just looking at me. Judging me. Reminding me that I am a failure.
A friend bought me gauntlets in an attempt to keep me from harming myself more, but a girl doesn't always remember to bring her gauntlets into the kitchen! Besides, I thought maybe I had outgrown those shenanigans in the past 4 days. Maybe my reflexes and coordination had improved. Alas, the blood all over my kitchen sink says otherwise.
You see, the slicing and dicing of my flesh wouldn't be so intolerable, and probably not-so-common if I still had my mommy standing there annoying me. "Don't hold that with your fingers, use a fork!" "Don't slice towards yourself!" "Don't chop your fingers off!" All these silly rules that now actually apply.
I'm not saying I want to live with my parents again. I know that would be a horrible and terrible and miserable idea (for them, mostly...) I just wish, well, first of all, I wish I hadn't used up all my Snoopy band-aids playing a game of 'Sticky Fingers' last week. I also wish I knew how to do this whole thing. This mature, growing-up, independence mishegas. I realize no one knows off the bat, and no one is doing it perfectly, but GOD, if I could just stop burning and cutting myself, I'd be ever so grateful. If I could learn how to organize things NOT on my kitchen table. If I knew that there is a reason they make separate washing stuff for wood and tile floors. If I knew WHAT they called washing stuff! Detergent? No... Soap? Maybe, but I don't think so. Spray bottle stuff that we don't drink? That'll do.
I'm a hot mess and I'm not even sure what a hot mess is. I think I fit the description, though.
What is the solution? Handbooks, directions, instructions, not forgetting the gauntlets? I suppose those might help. If I didn't misplace the directions... or if I have the time to read them. Meanwhile, I'll just keep playing along. Pretending to not be clueless. Acting like I know what's going on and each mistake is a "one time thing". Eventually, I have to catch on, right? Neurons and stuff, right? That's what we have them for!
I need some of them animal instincts to kick in. I don't how to boot those suckers up. Kicking sometimes fixes stuff. I'll give that a try.
Wait. Nope. Tried that once. Ended up having my toe go under my foot, the SAME foot, and crack the bone. Doctors laughed at me. Let's not experience that again. How about we maintain just a wee bit of pride, eh? Can we do that for a few more years? Let's try, champ!
Hey, I'm just a programmed being in some flesh. I'm here to be molded and learned real good. I'll take the punches as they come. If that means losing a few digits or an eyeball, so be it. If I have to sacrifice some babies along the way, I can dig it. Although, any other tidbits of life advice are appreciated...
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