It started the same as every other morning: the alarm went off, I cursed it silently, then I cursed it out loud and eventually I rolled over and fell out of bed.
But then I had a revelation! I thought of something that made my sleepy eyes light up: this wasn’t just any regular work day. This was casual Friday!
Khaki pants be damned I could wear jeans! I was so excited for that sweet, sweet denim it took me awhile to realize what had just happened: I had just become irrationally excited by expanded wardrobe choices.
I wasn’t excited because it was almost the weekend and I had super awesome plans, I was overjoyed because I could wear the pants I used to wear everyday.
This was about when I realized I had become a very boring, very bland adult: sort of like the human version of my hated khaki pants.
Obviously, this was tremendously upsetting, especially since this change seemingly came out of nowhere.
Now, I’m not saying I was a particularly exciting young person. Because, well, I wasn’t. But I never thought I would see the day when casual Friday brought me such overwhelming joy.
Growing up I never thought this would happen to me, mostly because I watched Hook too many times and I thought I could somehow become the female version of Peter Pan, a Paula Pan if you will.
But after I found out that option was out of the picture, I simply did what other “adulthood phobics” have been doing for centuries, I just tried to ignore the fact that I was getting older and increasingly more boring. This meant I tried to rationalize my very grownup behavior: like how my exciting weekend plans inevitably included grocery shopping and laundry and how the reminders written on my hand no longer said “movies at six” but things like “pay electric bill” and “buy milk.
Unfortunately, all it took was a pair of seemingly innocent jeans to bring me back to reality: I am an old person.
Now, people older than 23 will obviously tell you that I’m not old and yada yada yada. But that’s just because they’re older even than me, and are trying to delude themselves into thinking they’re not old at all. These people are liars.
Everyone knows there’s nothing to look forward to age-wise after 21. Unless I plan on running for government office anytime soon, all I have to look forward to is the ability to rent a car at 25. Woohoo rented Honda Accord Yippee! I’m unimpressed.
Thankfully, around noon on casual Friday as I sat at work in my comfy denim, I came to another slightly less depressing revelation: just because I’m older doesn’t necessarily mean I have to become more boring.
Sure, I might have to increase the prescription on my glasses and it might take me just a little bit longer to run laps at the gym but as long as I still remember which day is casual Friday, I suppose I’ll be all right.