Getting Older, Projects, and Housekeeping

I know my insistence on using the Oxford comma must surely stick in the craw of some of the English majors I have the acquaintance of, depending on which side of the fence y'all (see what I did there?) sit on, but I don't care. I'm going to keep using it until you pry the literacy from my cold, dead brain.

We've come again to the time of the year where the number representing my years in existence clinks up irreversibly. When I was an undergraduate teenager, I felt that it would never happen, I would never reach a point in time where I was old enough to be considered an average functional adult in the midst of my cohort. Here we are, all these years later, and as the cliche goes, I'm perplexed that nothing really seems dramatically different in my mind. Physically, I can feel the difference, sure, but upstairs not so much. Being an adult isn't so much about feeling like an adult (spoiler alert: no one does), but the largely hidden responsibilities that come along with it. And no one tells you this until you're in the middle of figuring it out for yourself, willing the dishes to just clean themselves.

Despite being away from Lisbon (again!), progress is steady on what I am planning to unveil for my yearlong project for this site and social media. It will not be a grand departure from the past or a big break in style or offering from what I have largely been doing and that has been enjoyed by friends, family, and the occasional newcomer, but more of an evolution and a challenge to make my personal space something more fruitful. Unlike when this site officially became this site and not just a travelogue Blogger account, a redesign is not in store, as I prefer to make fine adjustments and tweaks as I both learn better how to code what I want and the necessities that the web demands change. I don't like big changes when they are unnecessary but get bored of things if they are stagnant; I have been increasingly described by colleagues as "coherent", and perhaps it's fitting. More on all of that later, though.

In the meantime, I'm off to enjoy the pleasant spring of Barcelona, pondering political questions of no import to my studies and pretending to be more of an Iberian cognoscente than I really am. The schedule I lined out toward the beginning of the year has been essentially obliterated, but I'm here as ever.

How Cleaning Your Toilet Makes You More of an Adult

“Good morning, happy birthday! I have something very special planned for us to do. Grab your dirty laundry and follow me,” my mother greeted me on my 13th birthday. She proceeded to show me how the washing machine worked and the proportions of detergent necessary for each type of clothing, as well as the importance of removing lint from the filter in the dryer. “If you want me to do your laundry for you, you can pay me. I’m sick of this shit.”

Adolescence dropped unexpectedly and the process of becoming an adult does so as well, albeit more gradually. You don’t wake up one day to “surprise! Today you’re an adult.” In fact, most of us don’t ever really feel more grown up than our late adolescence, it’s a condition put upon us by the passing of time and increasing responsibilities that entails. We’re adults because we have to be, not because we asked to be—and that means that some of us never quite get there, either.

So where does the toilet come in? It’s very simple. Part of the process of becoming an adult is establishing a level of autonomy and independence from the environment in which we’re raised. For some, it means moving out of their parents’ house altogether, for others, it means paying them rent or increased levels of autonomy within the household domain. Perhaps separate groceries, perhaps cleaning the house more, but the underlying principle is the increasing of responsibilities. When you move out, in particular, there are endless untold surprises, things that pop up as expenses and inconveniences that we take for granted in the cocoon of our familial homes. Things like toilet paper, food, and yes, even the toilet.

Much like adulthood, the toilet is always there, and it is always a necessity, whether we like it or not. We are physically obligated to use it, and for the interest of our health and sanitation, we are obligated to clean it. When you leave home, whether it was your responsibility or not previously, it is yours now. The consequences are heavy if it doesn’t get done, even if it’s easier to put off indefinitely. So it takes much of the motivation and willpower that could be spent, say, watching the television or on the internet, to get up, put the gloves on, and get intimate with the porcelain bowl. It takes acknowledging a continual responsibility and addressing it consistently and with an effort and skill adequate to ensure that you’re not putting your health at risk because of the state of your toilet, to say nothing of the embarrassment of inviting guests over to a filthy home.

Cleaning the toilet isn’t fun. It isn’t sexy, nor is it a particularly noteworthy event, something to recount to friends and family after accomplishing. It’s just one of the things we’re obligated to do, thanklessly. Being an adult is often like that.