Saying "No" to Stuff

I'm truly dreadful at saying 'No'. It surprises people, because I'm opinionated and outspoken and, well... loud.

But I'm really bad at telling people that I either don't want to do something, or that it's a massive inconvenience to me, or that I don't have time. Remember "Ella Enchanted", the movie featuring Anne Hathaway (who I can't stand, because she comes across as prissy and entitled), where Ella is under a curse to obey anyone around her? I have more than a whiff of that. The problem is, though, that I end up making a complete dog's dinner out of all the things I commit to when I don't have time to do them. Or it makes me really stressed out. Or I just avoid answering until it's too late. Or... which is the most annoying for people I know and love, and which therefore makes me feel bad about myself, I end up bailing. Often at the last minute. Because I just can' take the stress of being over-committed and rushing, or I've promised to do something I really don't want to do, just to "be nice".

The problem is that I want to be an adult that people can trust and depend on, but I don't want to be a stressed out push over. And that balance is hard.

So I'm working on this aspect of adulthood. My experiments with saying "no" have as of yet not been super successful. I told a friend I couldn't look after her cat for free, using my work as an excuse, and she didn't speak to me for a month. Either this reflects badly on her, or on both of us; my legitimate work concerns aside, I should have also told her that I didn't want to do it. (I don't. She lives far away from me, it's a pain to get there, and I look after pets all day, every day - I don't want to do it without getting paid. I just don't. It's a great extra job, but there's only so much animal hair, feces and pet food one person can be expected to deal with on any given day).

But I'm persevering. I told a friend that I couldn't come to her birthday party on Thursday (which she sent out the invites for that day), because I had other plans and wouldn't be able to make it, but that I could come if she wanted to meet up another day. And it ended up that she was having another drinks party closer to me the next day - sweet! I told another person that whether or not I could buy flowers for his girlfriend's (who I've never met) art opening and hand deliver them to her really would depend on when and where it was, as I work two jobs. (Honestly, it's New York; there are more florists here than anywhere else outside of the tulip fields in Holland. I'm sure you can find one that will deliver. Don't be a jackass).

I'm not great at it, yet - I haven't sent off a friend's jacket that she left at mine, because it will cost me a fortune to fedex it and the regular post office is never open when I'm home, which I should have told her before agreeing to send it- but I'm working on it. Not an adult yet - but at least I've started asking myself "Am I only doing this to avoid conflict?" before I say "yes".

Sorting out finances

I just did the most adult thing I have done to date: started researching how I can sort out my student loans (which are in default, because I'm poor and occasionally flaky and often don't deal with problems that freak me out, but let them fester and get much worse). It seems like it will be a scary trip, but I'm on it; and it seems less terrifying than I thought. (Which makes the fact that I've avoided it for oh... I don't know.... SEVEN YEARS a little ridiculous).

Even just looking at that basically exhausted me, but I'm going to give myself an emotional high five, for some crazy ass adulthood goodness!

Doing Laundry - Adult Stylee

I don't do laundry often enough. I hate doing it. It's SO boring, and takes time and often money and a schlepp and... bleurgh.. It sucks. It's not that I'm unhygenic (I think...), but I have set up a system of avoiding it. Thus, I have lots of knickers and socks and t-shirts, and accept that my trousers are often going to be... well... a little grotty. The "sniff test", which usually only guys do? That's my jam. My nose is finely attuned to the socially acceptable level of B.O.; much trial and more error has made me a master of this much maligned art-form.

Not to mention the state of any room I happen to live in. While the bedrooms of most of my friends have scented candles for romantic evenings with their loved ones (no single person under the age of 45 has scented candles in their bedroom for any other reason. The bathroom? Totally.The Living room? Maybe. The bedroom? Totally because they're in a steady relationship. A Very Adult One where they do things like "keep the romance alive". Bastards), and/or citronella to get rid of mosquitoes (also very adult - I hate the little critters, they eat me alive, and I always forget citronella), that's not the case for me. My bedroom historically carries a whiff of "Eau de Foot". Not a good smell. And not a good look.

So: New plan for dealing with the laundry. I normally leave it until I absolutely HAVE TO do it, and it's even more of a miserable experience. Instead, I got a much, MUCH smaller laundry bag, and I'm trying to be really good about putting my dirty clothes in it, rather than on the floor. It's full really quickly, within a few days, so it triggers my "Damn, La Fitz, you're laundry bag is overflowing; you have nothing to wear, SORT IT OUT WOMAN"- reflex. Which makes me do my laundry when it's much less painful... Regularly. Like an adult.

My room's still messy, but at least I'm doing my laundry. Baby-steps to adulthood!

Operation Adulthood

"That's totally a blog!"

I've managed to reach 30 without any semblance of being an adult. Sure, lots of people at my age are missing one or a couple of the main components of official "adulthood". Maybe they are single. Maybe they're unemployed. Live in a semi-shitty apartment with roommates they're not convinced about. They may not have kids, or even pets. Perhaps they don't have proper health insurance, or don't make enough money to use said insurance.

These people have been known to bemoan their un-adultness, and are totally full of shit for doing so. Sure, they may have missed out on some of the markers of adulthood, but they are well on their way. They're on track, in subtle ways they don't even see: if you have at least a couple of those markers, getting more of them are much easier. You have the habits, you have the ideas and you don't have the obsession with being different and difficult in vague and undefined ways which I have.

Because me? I'm the real thing: arrested development. Living in people's houses, an eternal student, unpublished and largely, to be fair, unwritten. Pretty much impoverished. Pay-as-you-go phone. Have never even thought of how i would get health insurance, and have made a lifestyle out of working in jobs usually populated by teenagers or stoners.

And I'm done with it. Done with the childhood. Done with being a 20-something drifter. I've done that - time to grow up. So this blog is about how I do it.