The three-foot Christmas tree
Well, that sure felt like no time at all.
I took down my three-foot Christmas tree today. I specify "three-foot" because it was the only thing that would fit in my apartment. That seems endemic to early adulthood, at least among my crowd.
It was a bummer because it was so pretty, and I dreaded the effort it would take to pack everything up (surprise: it wasn't that hard), but it more or less felt symbolic. We're done celebrating for now, and it's back to same-old, same-old.
I've spent a lot of time this month thinking about my place in all of this. "This," being my ethereal Everything. At my family gatherings, it's like a switch flipped, and now all the adults talk to me like I'm an adult. Like I now know what "it's like." But I can't relate to their parenthood or their stability. I feel stuck in between.
O, three-foot Christmas tree...
I am once again having an existential crisis about being an adult
I was reading another bear blogger's post about becoming a "hesitant adult," — we really are all just feeling the same things but not really talking to each other about them, aren't we? — and it reminded me that I might feel like a kid for the rest of my life. My family has indeed quietly gotten rid of the kid's table. The cousins are all in the plus-or-minus college years. My friends all talk about jobs and salaries and how rent makes it feel like we're drowning. I can't imagine being in the shoes of some of my previous classmates who are getting married or, in some cases, already pumping out babies. Good for them, not for me!
Ceremonies
Above blogger also mentioned the lack of "ceremony" that happens to mark our coming of age when we get older. God, I remember there being so many ceremonies. They always felt meaningless when I was younger, a waste of time and money, but maybe it did trigger some "things are about to change" button in my little brain.
It seems like the ceremonies stop when you graduate with whatever your terminal degree was and resume briefly when you retire. There can be other ceremonies in between — weddings, funerals, all those silly ceremonies potential kids will go through — but those are seldom just for you, and they don't necessarily signal that big of a shift in your own life. I don't know. Maybe what I mean by all this is we need more ceremonies! Sue me!
Taking down the three-foot Christmas tree, now that I think about it, could have been a ceremony for me. Probably was.
New Year's resolutions
I've long thought resolutions (from here on out, NYRs) were dumb. Perhaps I was a bit of a give-it-to-me-straight kid, and now I'm a blunt adult. But in my studies (and in recent leisure reads), I've been told over and over again that all of this is because of capitalism.
Even baby me thought this was some sort of ruse to sell gym memberships or planners or home organization tools. I couldn't even tell you more than one NYR I've ever done; a few years ago, I told myself I'd read more. I read something like 50 books that year, up from 10 the previous. Go, me!
But maybe that's the gender studies major in me talking. Someone should shut her up every once in a while.
Despite thinking NYRs are a load of bull, I did put some actual thought into it this year. I have decided, aside from the depression and general stress of it all, I am, as of late, pleased with my life.
Therefore, I present my 2024 NYR: Keep doing what you're doing. Correct course when necessary.
Also, keep doing the NYT games every day. They make you happy.
🥜📊
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If you want to talk about any of my posts with me or just give me a comment, shoot me an email at davstri4077@gmail.com.