It’s been a very upside down sort of world I’ve been living in, for good and bad. Which is how it goes, I suppose, when you’re trying to get your shit together, as they so figuratively say.
What is it about being an adult that means having your shit together? What does that even mean? There’s no textbook definition, obviously, but everyone just seems to know what it means. It requires no analysis or deep thought. It just is. It is your shit. All together. At last.
When you’ve never had your shit together and this shit has just been all over the place, like all over the place… I’m talking shit in every closet, shit stuffed under the mattress, shit flung at the walls by proverbial monkeys… everywhere.
How can you possibly get it all together? This isn’t some easy cleaning, where you just Windex and shove things into drawers. Because the drawers are already full of shit and Windex + shit = messier shit.
It’s like spring cleaning. You’ve got to haul that shit out, polish it off, throw some away, and then put it all back neatly.
That’s where I’m at. Things are going to be better – my shit will be together – but in the meantime, it’s getting a helluva lot shittier.