Adventures in Adulthood

I made my first student loan payment today!

Hooray! I am thrilled to have entered the next, new stage in my life, i.e. indentured servitude.

While my soul cried as I finalized my payment, my mind stopped all unnecessary thoughts not directly related to my future finances.

“You have to pay X amount every month? How will you survive?” it said, every syllable drawn out in agonizing, invisible pain. “This crippling debt will leave you devoid of a social life, or worse, gourmet cat food in the future.”

adulthoood
“????????” -me

source: IMDB

I’m irritated every time I think about it. This is no way to start my new exciting life as An Adult. It’s no way to start the holiday season. Loans have such a lack of Christmas spirit that I’m sure they were raised in Grinch colonies devoid of any joy, where the main activity on Friday nights isn’t a trip to the local ice cream shop, but to the local fire pit where they roast their hopes and dreams to a crisp.

It takes a village, after all.

And yet, here I am, click click clicking around to see what loans should be payed when so I don’t pay an extra elbow and kneecap on top of the arm and leg I’m sacrificing for my education.

I’ve thought of a few things I could do with my money* for instead (especially that huge slap-in-the-face estimated interest**):

  1. Burn it in a trash can fire
  2. Place as a training mat for your house training pet
  3. Tissues
  4. Actually give to charities and people on the street when they ask
  5. Test out new paper shredders
  6. Move out of the house sooner

Instead of going on weekend trips or lavishing my little princess Figgy with expensive gravy-based packets of Fancy Feast, I have to wave goodbye to my hard-earned money while it sails away without me. Probably to an exotic location like the Land of Crushed Dreams. You should visit, they have the best collection of lost souls crying in their cars on display.

All negativity aside, it’s sort of fun getting rid of these scary-huge*** statements as soon as I can. And by fun I really mean satisfying like putting a pumice stone to your feet for hours.

*A stupid social construct that is somehow necessary but also totally meaningless. I’d love to tell you about my totally unrealistic goals for the future of global finances sometimes. It involves large amounts of apple orchards and manual labor trade and would obliterate money forever. Contact me here if you want to help spread my version of a hugely dystopian future!

**wtf is this anyways?  Why would I want to give you an EXTRA few thousand dollars? In the words of Louis Van Gaal, “What is this world twisted?”

*** A scarier idea is that I’m not paying that much –relatively—to many of my friends and peers. What is this world twisted, indeed.

I consider myse…

I consider myself something of an expert on cats. As a self-proclaimed Official Cat Lover, I have been exposed to a lot of cat things in my life.

Like a lot.

Cats are one of my passions and hobbies, and I know that like my P.A. post earlier, I have probably lost some of you immediately, but maybe my fellow cat-worshippers out there will decide to keep on reading.

Look, I can’t help it that these cats take up a significant portion of my heart.

Lucky for me I was able to find a 1850’s depiction of my heart

So when people claim to love cats, the voice in my head immediately says “No you don’t. You couldn’t possible love them as much as I do. In fact, I’ve had 14 cats worth of life experience!”

This isn’t a lie, but in retrospect I’m not too proud of this. Having 14 cats in my 19 years is a bad track record that is often thrown back into my face like a hot potato. However, this has sort of desensitized me to the hateful comments that non-cat lovers make. They will never know the sublime joy of a napping cat when you get home from work or school. They will never appreciate the amazing sensation known as purring.  They may never feel the success when your cat greets you by showing their stomachs. I have no problem disregarding arguments against cat-lovers by tapping into my memory of one of the many individual cats that I have had to drown out their dumb points.

There came a point in my life before I fully understood social decorum and what behaving somewhat normally entailed. Upon seeing cats, pictures of cats, or mentions of cats, I should not have put my full attention on a person and yelled “Kittyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” at them, but instead I should have probably continued doing whatever else it was.

I had a lot of cat related gifts at my birthdays.

I have read many book about cats. I own many books about cats. Fiction books, anecdotes, the DK CATS book, which is the Holy Bible of Cat informative books (I learned how cat babies were made before I learned how human babies were made), beautiful photograph books of cats.

I’m not crazy, but someone would think I am.

I recently bought a tank top of three cats in sombreros. I’m not even ashamed.

A cat clock hangs on my wall, and my grandmother made me cat pillow covers.

Actually, the more I’m naming objects, the more I’m realizing I should stop.

meow meow meow

(Long story short, I love cats. I think I made it clear.)

Bye