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The past few days, usually around mid-afternoon, I've been getting really hungry. I've been craving some kind of giant sandwich, with bacon, sausages, chicken, all of it. Just something BIG!
It occurred to me today that this hunger could be down to my unusual eating habits I adopt whilst living on my own. Even when I wake at nine for lectures, it is often four in the afternoon when I first eat something. It's a breakfast, lunch and dinner all combined. Then, a second meal usually gets served about eleven in the evening.
Say what you like about this eating system, and I know it isn't healthy at all, but it works for my life. Sure, I could wake early and grab some cereal. But my brain ranks sleep over food.
So now that I'm back at home, meal time become less fluid and I'm getting in the mood to snack around the time I'm usually eating a bigger meal. I'm not used to the proper adult approach of three meals at set times.
And this isn't the only adult thing I haven't got the hang of yet. I still can't do a weekly shop because I end up eating it all in the wrong order and letting expensive stuff go out of date. But how can I decide what I want to eat in three days time?!
I don't wash clothes regularly, like sense would like me to. Instead, everything gets worn and thrown into a basket. Then, when I'm down to the old jeans that don't fit and the top that says "I think, therefore I'm single" (Which I do own actually. It was a gift.), I bulk wash and everything becomes fresh and sparkling in the same two day period. This really isn't the best way to do it, and I think this every time I do it. Yet, nothing changes.
Budgeting has always been a problem. I still get excited when money gets put into my account that I go out and spend it on all sorts of exciting shiny objects and things that I really don't need. Then, at the month's end, I eat cold beans out of a tin to save on gas.
I don't get how adults manage the whole getting up early thing either. Because I always have such good intentions around eleven in the evening, but there is always more stuff I could be doing. I could be online, talking to people. I could be writing scripts. I could watch another episode of [insert whatever TV show I'm watching at the time]. It just seems like such a waste to get into bed. It seems like I'm surrendering to the Sandman.
Sure, the next morning, after I've slept through four alarms (I have four!) and still feel groggy, I sorta regret it. And yet, the evening all the morning memories have faded and I continue to talk/write/watch until the early hours. It's like how pregnant women forget the pain, to allow them to have more children. But bad for me!
And these are just the tip of the iceberg. I would know how to replace a fuse if it blew. Or anything electrical. I'm still rubbish at tuning TVs. I don't know how to vote in elections. I can't cook pasta. Or anything, unless I have a packet that tells me step-by-step what I need to do.
I don't own more than two plates or more than two cups, so would be rubbish if I wanted to invite people over. I don't even have tea or coffee for such events. My room still looks like it did when I was ten (Read: Messy).
All of this, and more, is made all the worse by the fact that in just over twenty-four hours I'm turning twenty-one. Which means I'm being pushed, against my will, into the world of adults. I'll be expected to eat properly and change fuses and own tea and coffee.
I'm not ready for that! Can we not say, right now, that people become adults at 25? Or 30? Because maybe then I'll be a little closer to knowing what I'm doing. Perhaps I'll even be able to whip up a simple meal.
That cool? Great. So soon, I'll be turning twenty-one-teen.
It doesn't seem sound bad now.
:D
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