Adulting Sucks Part 1848930: MOVING SUCKS

I’m on the verge of a full blown mental breakdown. Like, “crash the fuck out and disappear” type shit. I genuinely don’t know how much more adulting I can take before I completely lose it.

When you’re a kid, all you want is to grow up. You dream about freedom, independence, and staying up as late as you want. You think being an adult means ordering pizza for breakfast and never having to ask permission again. It’s a fantasy  and the cruelest part is how convincing it feels. You look at adults and think they’ve got it all figured out. Spoiler alert: they don’t. None of us do. And that "freedom" we were so desperate for? It comes with an invisible price tag no one tells you about until you're in too deep to back out.

Sure, there are moments that feel like milestones. Getting your license at 16 feels like getting handed the keys to the world. At 18, you can vote and sign your own permission slips. At 21, it’s shots, bars, parties, and finally being treated like a “real” adult. But once the novelty fades, you’re left with the harsh reality that adulthood is just an endless amount of responsibilities with very few rewards.

Take my current situation, for example. I moved into a new apartment recently, which sounded exciting in theory. New space, fresh start, a place to call my own. What could go wrong? Everything. Apparently, “first month free” doesn’t mean what any normal human being would assume it means. It actually applies to the second month, meaning I paid two months’ rent in 48 hours and didn’t realize it until my account was already gasping for air.

And then there’s the bed frame. I ordered it thinking I’d level up my adult life with actual furniture. What I got was a cardboard nightmare: holes in the headboard, busted drawers, and screws that have no business being in the same box. Now I’ve got a mattress sitting on top of glorified firewood. So, naturally, I called the company and got hit with the classic: “We’re sorry for the inconvenience, but there’s nothing we can do.” Oh really? Watch me go full Karen. I didn’t pay a Task Rabbit $150 to build me a pile of shit that hold my mattress up. I will get my restitution (Shannon Sharpe voice).

But honestly, the worst part of all of this isn’t even the money or the broken furniture, it’s the loneliness. The feeling that I could reach out, but I won’t. Not because I don’t have people, but because I don’t want to be a burden. I’d rather break my back carrying a mattress solo than risk someone thinking I can’t handle my shit. Even though, truthfully, I can’t. At least not right now.

So yeah. Fuck adulting. And an even bigger fuck you to moving.