Because I am going to assume that all of you are just hanging on to every single word that I post on here, I’m going to also assume that you may be wondering why I haven’t been posting with as much vim and vigor as I was when I first started up this blog.

If you are not wondering that, just pretend that you are and keep reading.

This is a LIFESTYLE blog, right? I should be writing about my lifestyle, lavish one that it is?

Well, the last couple weeks have been crazy because a stressed mess from Fredericksburg named Emma has finally found herself a job. A real, no-kidding full-time job.

It’s true. I have.

It’s one that I’m excited about too, which, for a while there at the end of my job search period, was feeling like might not happen for me. So, really, I’m a lucky gal.

Anyway, it’s a newspaper job in a small town in West Virginia. A really small town. Everyone keeps telling me that I will be experiencing culture shock. I keep telling people that I am thinking of it more like an adventure, which I am. But the hardest thing for me thus far has been this being-an-adult thing.

Today was Adulting 101. I went to the bank. I signed lease papers for a new apartment. I checked into a hotel room by myself. I worked out in the hotel’s “fitness center” (and I will just tell you that I am using that term loosely, because a poorly lit tile room with one treadmill and two sets of 30-pound dumbbells is hardly a fitness center, thank you very much, but desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose).

And tomorrow, I am going to my new job to officially start work. Then I will be checking out the actual town fitness center (which I hope to the Good Lord Almighty is a little bit more than a poorly lit tile room with one treadmill and two sets of 30-pound dumbbells). And then I will get a library card.

I know what you’re thinking. Wow, Emma is really out here doing it. A real grown up. Look how grown up she is.

And you would be right to think that.

However, in the spirit of honesty and truthfulness and my pledge to make this a real-deal lifestyle blog without all of the made up crap, I should also give you a more comprehensive insight into how my day went, and the less grown-up side of things.

Like the fact that I called my mom after everything I did today.

I drove two and a half hours from Fredericksburg to the apartment? Called my mom. Signed the lease? Called my mom. Realized that I don’t know what the heck to even say to an electric company? Rang me mum. Got annoyed because the freaking electric company had an automated line, and I don’t know what to say to a recording because I don’t want robots to have all of my information? I sucked it up and dealt with it like an adult.

Just kidding. I called my mom.

And then again, after I was finished at the bank.

Ring ring.

I forgot to mention my toilet incident. I was using the toilet, you know, as one does, and I thought that maybe there was something wrong with the toilet in my hotel room. I’m not a plumber. I don’t know what to tell you, but something wasn’t looking right, that’s all I can really say.

So I looked for the plunger. Couldn’t find the plunger.

Do you think that Real-World-I’m-An-Adult-Emma called the front desk of the hotel?

HA HA HA!

Uh, no. I called my mom.

Duh.

So, I am not telling that story about the messed up toilet and my separation anxiety for my health. I just feel like it’s important to be honest with myself about what I have going on, and be proud of the little things that I accomplish. Because this is all new to me, moving out, setting up bank accounts, electric companies, hotel toilets that don’t flush like literally every other toilet I’ve ever used in my 22 years of existence, going to a real person job, everything. It’s all new, and I don’t like the idea of making a sappy Facebook post about moving and getting a new job that makes it seem like I have it all going on.

Because I’m 22. I don’t need to know everything about everything. I’m allowed to let a toilet give me anxiety. I’m allowed to not know what to say to the robots on the phone over there at the electric company. And I’m allowed to call my mom all the time about every little thing, because I’m lucky to have a mom who will always be there to listen to me say things like “if I were a plunger, where would I be?”

I know she’s going to miss me when I move out, and so, who knows? Maybe deep down (like, really REALLY deep down, because I know that I can get REAL annoying) she wants to know every little detail, and she likes to know that I need her!

I’m going to start this job, and I could not be more excited. I love the apartment I’m going to live in, and I’m looking forward to getting to know this little town. And I’m looking forward to sharing the details of this lifestyle on this blog. All sides of the story, not just the ones that make me look fun, fresh and fabulous. And you bet your bottom dollar that I am going to appreciate my support system, because I’m lucky to have one.

And I’m definitely going to keep NOT KNOWING what the hell I’m doing. Why be wise beyond my years when I can just BE?

Your Still-Searching-For-The-Plunger Servant,

Em

(Thumbnail image courtesy of https://wallpapertag.com/west-virginia-mountaineers-wallpaper )

(Lady Gaga image courtesy of https://vigilantcitizen.com/musicbusiness/the-hidden-meaning-of-lady-gagas-telephone/ )