10 Things I (Should) Know at 32.
Dear Reader,
I turn 32 next week. I don’t know what is it about this number, but it’s brought on a distinct feeling of you are an adult now, so stop futzing around. I’m not sure why 31 did not elicit this particular emotional response, but here we are.
Anyway, here’s some things I feel like I should have mastered by 32, but, regrettably, remain elusive:
I do not regularly check my bank account. I know this is possibly the epitome of Not Acting Like An Adult, but it makes me feel too bad to see just how much I have been spending on products at Sephora, usually to make myself appear younger, and I just can’t muster the humility to do it on a regular basis.
I have no idea how to clean my dishwasher. I believe there’s a self-cleaning function, but I have never taken the time to figure out how to use this tool, and frankly, I am too grossed out by what I may find in said dishwasher to learn how to do so.
I still keep old checks. I am not entirely sure why, other than that I do not own a shredder and am convinced at some point they will become once more relevant to filing my taxes, no matter the year. There is no system in place for keeping these checks, other than bunching them into little heaps inside my office closet.
I could not confidently tell you what, exactly, an Americano is, even though it is the only thing I order at Starbucks.
I do not know the principles of Marxism. Somehow, I made it through an entire graduate program where people (men) threw out references to Marxism, and I have not bothered to find out what they were talking about.
When they show me the little stick with oil on it at the oil change place, I just nod my head like I have any idea what they are talking about. I do not. I have no clue what color my oil should be.
On that note, I do not know how to change a tire. If I were to be stranded in a snowy mountain pass with no cellular reception to call for help, I would be forced to hike to the nearest gas station.
I cannot remember to send a thank-you note. I am certain there is a distant relative out there who expected a thank-you note for a birthday or Christmas gift, and they are currently waiting for this note eight years later.
I refuse to clear out my email. My unread email count currently sits at over 5,000 unread emails, and I cannot bring myself to try to delete them all. It would take too much time, and I am far too busy scouring the Internet for white sneakers to bother with my email inbox.
I do not know the appropriate skincare routine for a 32-year-old woman, nor do I have the patience to skim endless articles and YouTube videos looking for the answer. What I do know is that I should be applying daily SPF, and that is all the effort I can currently muster.
TODAY’S PRAYER
Lord, thank you that I have made it this far. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I pray there is more good to come, and that when it does arrive I am able to see it, greet it, and love it.