It's already Wednesday and I haven't written anything this week, so I thought I would just give everyone out there an update on how my attempts to be a real live grown-up are going.
Considering that it's been just shy of three months since I made the big move and started a new job, I would give myself a nice, solid, respectable B+ for the whole shebang so far. Maybe just a B. The + is more for my own morale than anything else.
And listen, morale becomes a priority when you are essentially faking your way through life. Recently-graduated friends either know what I mean or are about to.
Muhammad Ali once said, "To be a great champion, you must believe you are the best. If you're not, pretend you are."
Now, tack on that everyone around you believes you are the best.
It looks like an adult, it sounds like an adult (except for I once used the word "stoked" on a conference call, which was regrettable), it wears adult clothes and has an adult job and lives in its own little adult apartment — it must be an adult, right?!
WRONG. It is a college student, adult, sometimes-kindergartner-slash-14-year-old hybrid who has no idea what it is doing in this office or paying this utility bill or describing this sound its car is making to a skeptical mechanic.
None of us, myself heartily included, have any idea what we're doing.
But despite that little oversight by Muhammad, swap out the whole "best" and "great champion" thing for "semi-stable adult human," and you have my top advice for any recent graduate or random 20-something in your life.
I repeat: None of us, myself heartily included have any idea what we're doing — but! I have found that it is best to do it with confidence.
Whether I believe I can (e.g. clients hiring me to edit their blog posts, make their Instagram not ugly, etc.) or not (e.g. mysterious tax forms, making my boss's coffee the way she likes it, etc.), I've opted to go forth with all the tenacity and common sense I've got with my fingers crossed and raised to the heavens above.
I keep waiting for someone to stand up in the middle of a crowd and yell, "SHE'S NOT A REAL ADULT! SHE'S A FRAUD!" — which, to be fair, would be super very true 99% of the time.
But so far, that hasn't happened; and I figure that even if I'm going to completely strike out, it's best to go down swinging. (Ignore the fact that I've publicly admitted to knowing, like, nothing about baseball.) I'm trying to work hard, be nice to people, and just give everything my best shot; and so far, that's been enough.
So there you have it: my quarterly adulting update.
If anyone has any more/better advice (or groceries, or spare pocket change, or caffeine) they'd like to pass on, feel free.
Until then, kids, it's just Muhammad and I, and we leave you with this golden rule:
"To be a semi-stable adult human, you must believe you are a semi-stable adult human. If you're not, pretend you are and/or call your mom." — Muhammad Ryley Ali Rush