Today sucked. It’s okay.

Ok so where should I begin without ranting too much?

Let’s just start out with when I get mad, I looked like a fat red baby about to have a tantrum (which I was, regression for the win). I can’t say anything. I know that if say even more than one sentence, then I will be screaming, crying, and possibly Hulk-like aggressiveness (not kidding, testosterone runs in my veins when I’m angry. Might explain a lot of things).

So I sat in silence.

As they told me everything that is wrong with me.

“Too shy”

And that’s when I realized. No, I’m better than this. Shy? That’s not me. Socially anxious wreck, yes, but shy? No. Awkward shy? Maybe. I mean come on, I used to bartend. “Shy” people can’t bartend.

I used to be shy. As a kid, I was bullied a lot by kids in my school and even by my friends, which eventually lead me to just shut down and become the “shy” kid. But after leaving home for college, being shy wasn’t an option anymore. Yeah it’s still scary. I still ask my mom to make my doctor appointments… and she’s across the country.

And then I learned the new and frequently used term of my generation: “adulting.” Adulting is scary. Adulting makes me want to go home and watch cartoons, smoke weed and hoop for hours. Maybe do some coloring. The other day I did one hour of adulting and at the end of it I just couldn’t anymore. Why? Adulting is hard and you have to fake it most of the time. I’m still 15 years old in a 23 year old body. I got an adult job a couple months ago and was all proud of myself cause I had gotten an adult job…

And then I called my mom crying “I can’t do an adult job! I’m a kid!”

Mom: “Emily, you’re 23.”

Me: “WITH THE SOCIAL SKILLS OF A 15 YEAR OLD”

I have not matured, but I’m not shy anymore. So maybe I can give myself 18 years old instead of 15.

But really, moving has been the biggest adult adventure. I’ve had to step out of my warm cozy comfort zone of doing my day to day things and hating them. I know if I want to be happy with any situation I have going for me, I gotta step out of that box. Sometimes I think back and I surprise myself. Like, damn, I chose to pack all of my life into a tiny 4 door Toyota Corolla and drove across the country all by myself. My car broke down on the way, and when I got here, I was thrown into the adult world in which I couldn’t go crying to my mom for help anymore.

Yesterday was just a major curveball. I thought I had been making major progress as a person. I feel like I’ve definitely stepped out of my comfort zone since having been forced to in order to get anything done around here. But instead of feeling the empowerment that I’ve given myself, I was pushed and kicked around like I was nothing. Powerless. Kind of a waste of a human. Can’t fit in.

Just not good enough.

But I thought about it as I sat in that stupid church parking lot screaming and crying over the phone to my mom, no, I’m not like that at all.

Me to my mom: “I don’t know what the f**k they wanted from me, mom. Did they want me to suck every customers’ dick? Like what the f**k more could I possibly do?”

Add that to my eventual memoir that’ll probably be called “Shit I said that was crude and completely called for.”

I mean honestly, that’s probably the only thing that would’ve made my customer service skills better. Okay I totally would not do that for a good tip, but I’ve done my fair share of basically flirting and whoring my way through a shift to get a good tip. That’s server life. We’ve all had to do it at one point. So side note, if a waitress is flirting with you, she is not actually interested in you. All of you desperate boys out there, please don’t leave your number on your credit card receipt because I will not call you. No one will. If you’re leaving a number for a girl who was nice to you because she was doing her job… that’s almost worse than Tinder. Or Bumble. Or whatever the kids are doing these days.

I thought I was scheduled for my 1/4 annual melt down, but actually, after a lot of crying and yelling at my friends about how dumb all of this is, I actually don’t care anymore. I can move on. If this is the worst thing to happen to me this year, then I guess life isn’t too bad. I just don’t like when things don’t end on my terms. Kinda like breakups.

But hey, now I have free time. I can keep hooping for 4 hours a day every day. I can take my time getting in a good workout at the gym. I can go hiking whenever I want.

At least for a little while. And then I’ll go back to being an adult.

I should have considered Neverland instead of Wonderland.

 

 

 

 

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