Adult Life

Lately,  I’ve really started becoming, like, an adult. I mean, I’m 32, so I’ve been an adult for a long time, but in the last few weeks, I’ve purchased matching silverware (gasp!), a toaster oven, and renters insurance. Like, get outta town. This is like next-level adulthood. The step after getting a job, and paying for my own car insurance.

Now, I feel like I might be ready for the big leagues, and I’ve got my eye on a crock pot with a timer. How nice would it be if I could just set that son of a bitch to turn on at noon tomorrow so that my homemade spaghetti sauce wouldn’t have to cook for a billion hours instead of its recommended 6-8? Nice, right? I know.

I’m probably getting slightly ahead of myself here considering these minor details:

I recently lost my laptop in my <700 sq. ft. apartment.

I regulary bribe myself to empty the dishwasher with wine. (Bev, you can open the bottle after you empty the dishwasher. Yes, the whole thing.)

The silverware I bought myself was the cheapest stuff Target had, and sometimes, my yogurt tastes like metal. (Yes, I know it’s the spoon)

My current crock pot is missing the knob and requires a goddamned pliers to turn on, and I’m never 100% sure if I’m on high or low.

I mean, I’m on the right track, at least. Right?

YouTube credit: Movieclips

-Beverly (there’s another step- so much more grown up than Bev)