Yesterday I did something that made me realize just how clueless I am. I went to the post office. If you’re already low-key judging me for not knowing how to operate inside of a post office, I’m totally okay with it. I’m judging myself as well, because the confusion. was. real.
I’ve never had to mail a package until now, but my best friend just recently moved to Georgia. I went shopping for her birthday present, not really thinking about the fact that I would have to ship whatever I bought.
So, I attempted to go to the post office to mail all of her gifts but first I had to ask Siri where my local post office was after already asking my mom, because I was that confused about how to get there. I should also note that I’ve lived in my hometown since I was in diapers. Yeah…totally embarrassing.
I finally get there and I had to buy a box because I didn’t think to bring one, and put it together standing there in line. After I had it somewhat assembled, I noticed the area of the office where they had free boxes. Oops.
Then, as if I weren’t already struggling enough, I walk up to the counter and see a sign that says I can’t ship liquids. Liquids like the multiple bottles of body spray and shower gel and lotion that were ALREADY PACKED AWAY IN MY BOX. I had taped that box up like it was about to travel through a hurricane because who really knows?
I was not-so-lowkey-freaking out that either the body sprays and lotions were going to explode all over the other gifts or, worse, I was going to be assassinated by the NSA for shipping illegal items.
Then, due to my lack of knowledge on all things mail related, I realized that I had been conned me into paying an extra fifty dollars for “additional insurance.” Why in the hell do I need insurance to send my best friend a stupid birthday present?! Did I accidentally buy her a car? Is it protecting her life?
So there’s a point to this long, embarrassing story about my trip to the scary post office. That point is that I am completely clueless about all things adult.
I think it’s a generational thing. I’m not used to post office etiquette because my generation doesn’t really use them. I didn’t know I was getting screwed out of $50s because I didn’t know it normally costs $20.
But my incident got me thinking that it isn’t just mailing a package I’m unsure of. My Dad asked me a question concerning my taxes. Taxes? No freaking CLUE what any of that means! Car insurance? How does that even work? What is equity? How do I get it? What’s a 401K?
Why don’t I know these basic things about life that any adult should know? Am I an idiot? Am I truly just daft?
Even though sometimes I would argue “yes” to the above, I think it’s more than that.
I think that I grew up in a transitional generation where things are evolving at a drastic rate. On top of that, my parents have always done everything for me!
I feel as though our generation receives a lot of heat for being on our phones, not knowing about the adult world, being unrealistic about life, and having grand expectations.
All of that may or may not be true. I admit that I am spoiled. I am lucky enough to have an amazing family that always did whatever it took to help me succeed in life. However, I should know how to do my taxes, I should know how to mail a package economically, I should understand my pay stubs.
I have a lot to learn. One day I’ll understand mortgages and 401k’s. I’ll have a car payment and I’ll do my own taxes. I know my weaknesses and I know the things I need to change in my life to adjust to the “adult world.”
So in conclusion: Be smart, appreciate lessons worth learning from the past, and work to apply them to the future. Most of all though, don’t let the snaggletooth lady at the post office con you out of your hard-earned money to send you best friend a birthday present.
Syndicated: Confessions of a TwentySomething Female
Featured Image via Keeping Up With The Kardashians Screengrab
Wow, read a yourtango article that was very underwhelming. Wanted to see if it was an anomaly or if this is the current state of ‘journalism’ these days.
no wonder people aren’t calling media people ‘journalist’ anymore, and instead referring to your group as ‘typist’.