The other day someone asked me what my blog was about…I actually had a hard time answering. It started out as a place to share all my nutrition and health knowledge, and occasionally I do post about that. However, most of the time I write about whatever is relevant in my life at the moment. I write what I need to hear, and then I put it on the internet because that’s what millennials do.
Fuck you. I am a millennial…just an elder millennial. *Thanks Iliza Shlesinger* for coining this term and being the funniest human alive.
Turns out, I should probably change the name of my blog to “Practically Adulting” because most of the time I just end up writing about how hard it is to be a grown ass adult. Like, it’s hard…not just logistically, but emotionally as well.
The other day I was getting my hair done and the hairdresser said: “Are we doing any grey coverage?”….LIKE, WTF! She didn’t ask me this because she saw grey hair, she asked me this because she took one look at my old ass weathered face and knew I was haggard AF and probably had grey hair that needed covering.
When did this happen? When did I go from being I.D.’d at the ol’ Liquor Box to being asked if I need grey coverage?
It’s time for me to face the hard reality, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably not a cute little duckling.
Enter: Adult Dating.
Dating.Fucking.Sucks. Specifically if you are an awkward introvert like me.
Me trying to go on dates *Play it cool, don’t make it awkward*
I haven’t dated much in my life because I was in a relationship for my entire 20’s. But dating in college was the simple life: parties every weekend, sporting events, night clubs, classes full of marginally eligible humans with probable future career paths. In college, if you have a sleepover with a stranger it’s no big deal because you really don’t have anything important to do the next day. As an adult…you have shit to do, work to get done and sleep is not just a “like to have” it’s a goddamn “MUST HAVE”.
But times have changed and it is savage AF out there.
This shit is whack. In between getting solicited for sex and getting judged on appearance alone, it’s essentially just texting back and forth until someone loses interest and completely ghosts it. It’s honestly shocking what people will post as their profiles—it’s like that website The People of Walmart, but packaged up into a dating site.
Hot tip. “Do you wear low-rise jeans and a thong,” is not a pick-up line.
Bruh, I wear basketball shorts and a nighttime retainer.
Remember the days before text messaging, when phone conversations took place and real plans were made. If you made a plan, you had to PHONE someone to cancel it. Texting takes all the accountability away from us.
I’m SUPER guilty of this and I hate committing myself to things I know I will later regret, but I must admit that this adds yet another layer to an already complex situation. Let’s just cut to the chase OK.
It’s really hard for me to get through dates because the entire time I’m really just thinking about how much I can’t wait to get home and eat snacks in my full grey sweatsuit.
To be totally honest, the energy level it takes to look presentable and make small talk is just too much for me. Can we just skip the adventures and go straight to peeing with the door open and watching Netflix in tube socks? I’m 100% hoping fate will just bring someone to my home.
I think of all the challenges of adult dating, this one might be the hardest…at least for me.
As adults we lead busy lives. We have full-time jobs and probably a side-hustle, we have hobbies, friends, houses, furniture, maybe pets, and all sorts of other adult shit. We have routines and bedtimes, and we are set in our ways.
Hooooow in da actual fuq are we supposed to find time to get to know a new human, spend time with them, have sleepovers, get adequate sleep, stay on track with our diets, fit in all the fitness, decipher if they are a sociopath, and then get to a point where one of us has to sell or throw away all of our shit to live in a small unaffordable one bedroom condo? Seems impossible! It’s now clear to me that cocaine was invented by someone in the adult dating game.
Looks like dying alone is on the menu for me.
Back in the day, I didn’t really care about someone’s career goals because I wasn’t thinking big picture. I didn’t care if they were on the fence about marriage and children, and I didn’t care if they made their bed or slept on a shitty futon in their parent’s basement.
As an adult, that shit is childs play…now it’s like, can I look past a secret hidden family and 3 years in jail; he owns a house!
This list is getting more and more flexible. You must have…been born?
All that being said, there is a silver lining to everything. The good news is…the dating process is much more efficient in your 30’s. For me, I know what I want and although I haven’t mastered most of the basics of adult life, I do know that if a guy can’t get behind my high waisted pants, he’s out.
If I am being totally honest here, being single is actually pretty fucking great. I can literally do whatever I want, whenever I want. Maybe one day I will like someone enough to want to change out of my sweatsuit for them, but for now, i’ll be eating my banana bread and preparing to one day be referred to as a geriatric mother.