There are a range of unexpected milestones in life that, as they happen, you chalk up as being the path to being a responsible adult. The first of these, for me at least, were pretty basic affairs – getting a drill or a step ladder. Stuff that when you were younger, other, older people had & you borrowed them on the rare occasion that you needed them.
As I’ve become more responsible, or you could call it, older, these milestones have become increasingly expensive & more depressing. The recent hi-lights include a petrol powered lawnmower & a fence. Why on earth do I have to spend so much money on a fence? I don’t really want it, I don’t really need it – but society expects it, my neighbours expect it. There are so many things I’d rather use that cash for, it’s not even funny!
Perhaps one of the few benefits that comes with this increased responsibility, is the right to enjoy a decent beverage. While I may no longer be able to pack alcohol away in the quantities that I could when I was younger. I can instead savor the good stuff – what better way to ‘forget’ about the fence than to sample (in reasonable quantity) a rather fine tipple. While my tastes can and do vary, often on a seasonal basis, this still remains one of my greatest enjoyments in life.
Obviously the enjoyment of a tipple or three, can lead to some trickiness when it comes comes to some other joyful responsibilities. I am now at that point, where I am the sole person in the house that remembers that the bins have to be put out. A cloudy head can give way to moments of clarity when you hear the bin lorry approaching down the street. How do the bin men do it? They must have a drink or three before collecting the bins – and they have to endure the smell, oh god, the smell!
During these moments of joyful responsibility come a wave of weather related concerns. The rain, the wind – winter storms. Will the wind blow the recycling bin over, will I have to pick up all the empty cat food pouches up in the street? Will the fence blow over…again? I spent the morning of last Christmas Eve fixing my fence. This is perhaps the worst example of joyless adult responsibility that I have had the misfortune to endure in recent times.
Youth really is wasted on the young – can’t someone else deal with this stuff? I know I don’t want too!