Sunday, September 4, 2011

Faking It

Don't be fooled - the vacuum wasn't actually turned on

Today I've been catching up on my blog reading, and I came across this pearler from Hyperbole and a Half. Sometimes I feel as though she can read inside my head. And not just any part of my head - the bit that contains the tumbleweed and the monkey.

Most of the time, I feel like a semi-competent faux adult. Oh yeah, I drive myself places (see me driving this car? I even have the loan repayments so you know that this car makes me an adult), I arrive on time to things (mostly), I hold down a job (I haven't been fired yet) and I do lots of little things during the day that ensure my survival until another day (like breathing), but most of it is just a complex facade, and all that lays underneath is the girl who, unless she concentrates REALLY hard, forgets to eat/sleep/avoid obstacles while walking.

You may have even noticed that I'm continually referring to myself as a girl. Or a gal. Or a chick. I can't bring myself to say "woman", or "lady". I feel like I'd just be giving myself ideas above my station.

In a timely fashion, today (Father's Day) I had a moment for self-analysis when a new co-worker enquired if I had a "hubby at home celebrating Father's Day on his own". I laughed. Racuously. In her face. As I always do in these situations. People throw out the words "husband", "child", "pregnant", "home-ownership", "share market", "risoni" and the like, and I become flustered, feeling the need to explain that, while I may APPEAR as if I'm an adult, I'm nowhere near old enough for that stuff.

Sure, legally I can do whatever I want. But really, until I can remember to eat 3 meals a day, please don't make me responsible for somebody else. I can't even cook eggs, for god's sake. The solitary time that I tried to cook rice was a majestic failure. I don't think that you realise exactly how underprepared I am for this big, bad world of ours.

And then there's the flawed decision-making process that seems to be an integral part of my personality. The part that says, "Yeah, you're running late, your socks are wet, and you don't own a dryer. MICROWAVE!!!", and the part that then has to deal with blackened socks that snap when I try to turn them right side out. It's the part that says, "Although you are sitting on a high seat with your legs crossed underneath you, don't stand up to pick that piece of paper up off the floor. Just lean down to it. Lazy = good.", which unsurprisingly to everyone but myself, led to me losing an earring, receiving a blow to the head, and getting a boo-boo on my knee. And I still didn't manage to grab the catalyst piece of paper.

Yesterday morning before work, I somehow managed to break my bedroom curtain rod. I don't know what happened; I was opening my curtains, and then all of a sudden I was draped in netting and wondering if my hazy vision was a side-effect of fatigue. A variety of appropriate responses came to mind, but the course of action that I chose based upon the variables (lack of time, need to get to work, lack of time) was the most obvious of all of the options - I closed the outer curtain again, and pretended that it never happened. I might get around to opening the curtain again and sorting out the issue. Or maybe it will magically fix itself. Who knows? All I know is that I'd rather live a life prepared to be open to the idea of magical curtain-fixing, than being all negative and whatnot.

I keep assuming that these thought processes and actions will change - maybe once I hit 26 years of age something will happen inside me and I'll be able to make a mean omelette and watch the news without crying about all of the people that got hurt. I don't know. I try not to get my hopes up about it all. I think the far likelier outcome is that I will forever be driven to distraction by shiny things, and proud of obviously monumental feats like checking the fuses in my car - it's just that I might be able to control it all a little bit better.

We can hope.


  1. ha ha ha, you make me laugh so much.
    and, ahh, no. nothing will change with age, you will still feel 12 and can't work out why everyone thinks you are grow up enough to own a lawnmower. well i do anyway

  2. Um, wait. Couple of things.

    Firstly. Cars have fuses?

    Secondly. When that curtain fixes itself you are going to freak right out, missy.


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