Adulting is Hard

noun, informal
the practice of behaving in a way characteristic of a responsible adult, especially the accomplishment of mundane but necessary tasks.

Being an adult is sometimes an uphill battle. When we’re young, we look at adults as if they’re these perfect, intelligent creatures who can do no wrong, but the truth is they screw up just as much, if not more than kids. They’re just better at playing it off or ‘sticking the landing,’ if you will. So that’s what this story is about: making a silly mistake but sacking up and handling the situation with little to no assistance from anyone – ya know, like an adult.

About a year ago, at the ripe old age of 25, I made my first big boy purchase – a brand new car. With this newfound responsibility of a monthly car payment, I had decided that going out to the bar every weekend was probably not the adult thing to do. So there I am at 10:30 on a Friday night in my underwear playing video games like the responsible young man that I am, when I receive a phone call from a good friend of mine. We will call him Otis. Otis and his entire family are going out, they want to extend me the invitation, and because I am weak of will and strong of love for Otis’ parents, I agree to join them for a beer.

What could possibly go wrong?

The night ensues and drinks are consumed. All of a sudden, it’s 2am, I say my goodbyes to Otis and the fam as we part ways for the evening, er… morning. As I have had more to drink than the intended one beer, I decide that taking a Lyft home is the way to go, but first thing’s first – late night snack. I walk to the nearby delicious hotdog establishment to satisfy my alcohol-induced craving. As I’m waiting for my order I look at my phone and realize my phone is on 4% and dwindling fast.

I’ve got a charger in my car, I think. My car is close by so I walk with my drink, chips, and keys in-hand to grab my charger. I unlock my door and sit everything down in my seat (you probably see where this is heading) and search for my charger. No luck. I push the lock button on the door and shut it. Crap… I just locked my keys in my car.

I check my phone. We’re sitting on a cool 3% now.

Cool… cool, cool, cool.

So in a perfect world I would have used the last of my battery to call a locksmith. In fact, with my insurance, I could have gotten it unlocked FOR FREE. Alas, this is not a perfect world, and I’m a big dummy so I use the last of my phone’s battery life to get a Lyft back to my apartment. AND get this: I had lent my spare key to a buddy of mine who I let crash on my couch for a little while and never got it back. Dumb. On the way to my apartment, I’m blowing up Couch Pal’s phone to get the key. Again, no luck. Lyft Driver drops me off in front of my locked apartment and shortly after, my phone completely dies.

Great, I guess I live outside now… Or do I?

Without giving too much detail, I live on the second floor of my apartment complex which has a small balcony leading out of my bedroom through a sliding screen door that I rarely keep locked because remember – I’m very responsible. So I sneak around back of my apartment building like a cat burgler to assess the height of my balcony. It’s pretty high up for a second-floor apartment, but at this point, it’s my only option. It’s nearly 3am, and I don’t want to scare the hell out of my downstairs neighbor, so I stealthily and carefully begin scaling her patio. I’m not the most athletic fella, but with minor difficulty and without making a sound, I manage to climb her railing to see the top of my patio furniture.

Good. I’m in the right place. Halfway there.  I look down, which you should never do when you’re climbing, take a deep breath, grab two of the posts in my hands, and swing my leg to meet them… and I miss. A string of curse words flows through my head as I dangle desperately from my apartment balcony.

This is it. This is how I die. I should have stayed home and played video games… No. No you’ve got this. You’re an adult.

I regain my footing, take another breath, and swing again. GOT IT! I pull the rest of my lanky body over the rail, and open my screen door which, thankfully, is unlocked. I plug up my phone and go to bed.

Consider this situation handled.

As for the moral of the story, several things: First of all, you’re going to make mistakes. That doesn’t make you any less of an adult. You’ve just got to learn from them and do better the next day. It’s okay to stay home on a Friday night. You’re not going to miss out on anything. Always have a spare key hidden. If your phone’s battery sucks, get a new phone. And most importantly, if you lock your keys in your car, please… call a damn locksmith. PEACE!