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Thursday, 20 July 2017

IS THERE A FEMALE VERSION OF THE WORD MANCHILD?


I learnt a few things about myself today. I am not nearly as grown up as I believe myself to be and that I would certainly die in a zombie Apocalypse. The fact that my mind would even link those two totally unrelated events together, is a testament to how un-grown-up I am. (fairly confident that's not a word) I had a pretty crappy morning, which started with me falling back to sleep after I had switched off my alarm, waking frantically to the realisation that I had fifteen minuets to get ready. Disaster number two took place whilst doing my makeup, when I squirted foundation down my work skirt. It wasn't the lack organisation that left me feeling like a less than adequate adult but more the fact that I had no idea what to remove a foundation stain with. I feel like rescuing clothes from life long stains is the true mark of adulthood. Clearly something I have not accomplished as I went to work with not only a foundation smear on the bottom of my skirt, but also an oily residue around the stain because I tried to get rid of it with makeup remover... Amateur.

Work is usually a constant reminder that I look twelve years old, as people scan my face and my work badge trying to work out whether I'm qualified to advise them, or if someone just let the work experience girl loose in the pharmacy. There is no bigger sign that you are defiantly not an adult than being referred to as 'sweetheart' or 'darling' 100x a day. Today was no different. I had a frantic forty minuets at the end of the day filled with confusing prescription issues that resulted in me leaving around fifteen minuets late. The cherry on top of the shitty little cupcake that was my day, was returning to my car to find a very flat tyre. The terrible thing is that it was not even a surprise event. I knew I had a slow puncture and I just ignored it. I'm not quite sure whether this makes me a child or just a fucking idiot. So now I could no longer ignore the tyre problem. I had to fix it and it was at this point I realised I have absolutely no idea how to do that, that I'm a hopeless adult and if there was a zombie invasion right now I'd be on the menu. I always thought I was quite a pragmatic and sensible person, ideal for a zombie attack. That brains over brawn would be my weapon of choice. Until I realised that I clearly panic in situations that I am not comfortable with and well I'm not actually that useful. To put a long story short I need to learn how to change a fucking tyre. I managed to call pretty much everyone in my contact list who had reasonable knowledge of cars and ask for advice. This lead me to purchase an air machine thingy... and blow the tyre up enough till I could get it home and someone else with more experience could change the tyre for me. This took me roughly about two hours. How I'm not sure, but it did.

 Over the last year there have been multiple occasions where I have just been way in over my head in adult situations, but non as much as this one. In the two hours it took me to blow up a tyre I verged on tears about six times. When I finally got home I felt a little bit deflated and a whole lot of useless so I dealt with the emotions the only adult way I knew how. I fought back the tears, ran myself a bath and poured a big glass of rose´.  It's easy to get hung up on the crappy things, the fact I'm clearly not qualified to set my own bedtime, that I leave my laundry to do last minuet and that I know nothing about cars. But I also have learnt so much, how to cook home cooked meals, holding down a steady job, budgeting my money, saving a percentage of my wage and just navigating a world outside of university. The truth is I'm an adult in progress, and I think that's okay.
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