When I was a kid I used to dream I would one day be a Pokémon trainer. Today I dream of a day when I'm not scared that the shelves of my refrigerator are about to collapse under the weight of all the old pickle jars I haven't been able to bring myself to throw out. It takes you awhile to realize how much of your life revolves around your fridge, but once you do it's very hard to ignore. Your fridge is like Christmas everyday, only instead of presents, your opening a reflection of how disorganized your life is. I cannot express how good throwing everything out and starting fresh feels, and I highly recommend it to anyone reading this.
As someone who doesn't own a dishwasher, believe me when I tell you that you don't miss it until your gone. Doing dishes manually is a bitch, but more than that, it's impossible to get right when your but a mere human. No matter how good you are at it, you're always gonna be left with a small, almost imperceptible film that you just don't get with a dishwasher. Small as it is though, it also happens to be the exact width of the line separating you from being a functional adult. Go figure.
I used to get on my mom's case for vacuuming as much as she did, and if you're reading this now, mom, I'm sorry. (She's for sure not reading, but I guess that's what I get for being such a dick to her when she was just trying to clean up after me.) I'll be honest, I still can't tell if my rug need to be vacuumed or not until I actually do it. That said, once I do, it's a thing of true beauty. It's like that scene in the movie where the nerdy girl takes off her glasses as reveals that she was actually covered in a thin layer of skin cells and dog hair before. A freshly vacuumed rug ripples out into all aspects of your life. No matter how shitty things can get, you can at least stare down at the floor and say "Look how clean it is!"
When I was younger, I never really thought I'd own stuff that I wasn't actively using. Now that I'm older, that's not the case. My room is cluttered with stuff that just barely fits in place, making me just the slightest bit like my walls are closing in on me. I've tried throwing stuff out, but always end up losing something I genuinely needed in the process. As such, I've started to spend my days wistfully dreaming of what it must be like to have a closet. I have a smile on my face just thinking about it.
Fruit has always been good as hell, but for most of my life I just kind of assumed that fruit was fruit. Thankfully, I've since opened my eyes. There's nothing worse than biting into an apple that's not that good. Conversely, biting into a great apple is like being double teamed by two Jesuses. I guess what I'm saying is that I never understood why people would spend time going to fruit stands, but now I totally do. It sounds like a lovely Sunday, to be quite frank.
Name a better feeling that lying on a freshly made bed with a clean fitted sheet that's been properly in place....that's right. You can't. I resent my younger self for not making his bed all those years.
It's sad to think about, but one of the greatest joys in life is a nice, uninterrupted shit. What's sadder still is how rarely that actually happens when you're an adult. When it does, you're instantly reminded how good it feels to throw caution to the wind, and wreck your toilet without abandon. You start to hope for it with a fiery passion, and, in the process, remember just how depressing adulthood can be.
I spent the majority of my young Fridays worried that I wouldn't have plans. Now I spend my Fridays trying to think of ways to get out of the plans I already have. Being alone can be good as hell sometimes, and it's sad that it takes you until you're a grown up to realize that.